mt ^ffL Ik ¥ *^^^^^^F' i wSk *i <*^ Si '^^■HH ^^h^^^^^ fflE U^" M M^R fl H ^pS| ii S«^ ;.\.Mt^' W'i a. f ■'Wfc ■'^««..M'^"^^^''^^'^' '^^nn^ (j^ L-^ -^^^^-v-eo^u^ .^ THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR O'LEARY CHARLES LEVER LONDON GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS Broadway, Ludgate Hill GLASGOW, MANCHESTER, AND NEW YORtL CHARLES LEVER'S WORKS. THE "HARRY LORREQUCR" EDITION. In Crown ivo, with Illustrations, Harry Lorrequer. The Dodd Family, vol. t. Jack Hinton. Tht Dodd Family, vol. a. Charles O'Malley, vol I. Luttrell of Arran. Charles O'MaUey, voL •. Davenport Dunn, voL i. Con Cregan. Davenport Dunn, vol. a. The O'Donoghue. The Bramleighs of Bishop's Folly Tom Burke, vol. i. Lord Kilgobbin. Tom Burke, voL a. The Martins of Cro' Martin, voL «. One of Thenu The Martins of Cro" Martin, vol. a. llie Daltons, voL i- That Boy of Norcott's. The DaltoKs, VoU 2. Thj Fortunes of Glencore. The Knight of ©"wynne; »ti. 1. Ei/ Jasper Carew. The Knight of Owypne, ml i. Maurice Tiemay. Arthur 0'l.cary, ■ ! ■ A Day'i. Ride : A Life's Romanos. Roland Cashel, t6L i. Tony Butler. Roland Cashel. voL ■. Sir Brooke Fosbroob w BaiTingtoo- Horace Templeton. PR CONTENTS. CHAP. I. The " AirwooD" . • • • • • PAOB 1 II. The Passport — A Perilous Adventure — Mine Host op en THE Boar's Head .... 10 III. Mine Host's Tale .... 25 04 IV. Strange Characters .... 31 s V. The Smuggler's Stort .... 45 - VI. VII. The Smuggler's '&to^y— {continued) The Smuggler's Story — {concluded) 70 87 VIII. Table-traits . 124 ■; IX. A DiLKlIMA . « ■ 132 X. XL XII. XIII. XIV. Forest Life. . , Chateau Life The Abbe's Story The Chase . A Narrow Escape • « » « • 160 181 . 197 . 215 . 229 XV. A Mountain Adventure • • , 246 3 XVI. The Bore — A Soldier of tf IE Empire . 219 XVII. The Retreat from Leipsic . . r67 XVIIL The Top of a Diligence . • . 276 XIX. Bonn and Student Life • • . 286 XX. The "Student" . • • . . 303 -4338?! !7 CONTEXTS. CU\P. PAOK XXI. TnK Tk.\vi.:i,ling Party . . . i < , 316 XXII. TuK Gamblixo-Room . 326 XXIII. A Wateking-Place Doctor . . . . . 336 XXIV. Sir Harry Wycherlky . 344 XXV. TuE Recovery Uousk . . . • • . 356 XXVI. Tub "Dream of Death" . 361 XXVII. The Strange Gcest . 370 XXVIII. "The Park" . 378 XXIX. The Baron's Story . 384 XXX. The Rapacious Officer .... . 410 XXXI. The FoRTB'^.op . 425 XXXII. A Play by Cummakd . 432 XXXIII. C0KCLU810M . 443 THE ADVENTURES OF AKTIIUR O'LEAEY. CHAPTER I. THK " ATTWOOD." Old "Woodcock says, that if Providence had not made him a Justice of the Peace, he'd have been a vagabond himself. No such kind interference prevailed in my case. I was a vagabond from my cradle. I never could be sent to school, alone, like other children — they always had to see me there safe, and fetch me back again. The rambling bump monopolized my whole head. I'm sure my god- father must have been the Wandering Jew, or a king's messenger. Here I am again, en route, and sorely puzzled to know whither ? There's the fellow for my trunk. "What packet, sir?" " Eh ? What packet ? The vessel at the Tower stairs ? " "Yes, sir; there are two with the steam up — tlie Rotterdam and the Hamburgh." " Which goes first ? " "Why, I think the ' Attwood,' sir." " Well, then, shove aboard the ' Attwood.' Where is she for ? " B 2 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. " She's for Rotterdam. He's a queer cove, too," said the fellow under bis teeth., as he moved out of the room ; " and don't seem to care whive he goes." A capital lesson in life may be learned from the few moments ^T'ecC'di'n'g departrire' from an inn. The surly waiter that always said "coming" when he was leaving the room, and never came, now grown smiling and smirk- ing ; the landlord expressing a hope to see yuu again, while he watches your upthrown eyebrows at the exorbitancy of his bill ; the Boots attentively looking from your feet to your face, and back again ; the housemaid passing and repassing a dozen times on her way nowhere, with a look half saucy, half shy ; the landlord's son, an abortion of two feet high, a kind of family chief-remembrancer, that sits on a high stool in the bar, and always detects some- thing you have had that was not "put down in the bill " — two shillings for a cab, or a " brandy and water;" a curse upon them all; this poll-tax upon travellers is utter ruin ; your bill, compared to its dependencies, is but Falstaff's " pennyworth of bread " to all the score for sack. Well, here I am at last. " Take care, I say ! you'll upset us. Shove off, Bill ; ship your oar ;" splash, spla:;h. " Bear a hand. What a noise they make ! " bang ! crash ! buzz ! what a crowd of men in pilot coats and caps ; women in plaid shawls and big reticules, band-boxes, bags, and babies, and what higgling for sixpences with the whorrynien ! All the places round the companion are taken by pale ladies in black silk, with a thin man in spectacles beside them ; the deck is littered with luggage, and little groups seated thereon ; some ver^' strange young gentlemen, with many-coloured waistcoats, are going to Greenwich, and one as far as ^Margate ; a widow and daughters, rather prettyish girls, for Heme B;iy ; a thin, bilious-looking man of about fifty, with four outside coats, and a bear-skin round his legs, reading beside the wheel, occasionally taking a sly look at the new arrivals. — I've seen him before ; he is the Secretary of Embas.sy at Constantinople ; and here's a jolly-looking, ro.sy-chceked fellow, with a fat florid face, and two dashing-looking girls in black velvet Eh I who's this ? — Sir I'otcr, the steward calls hiiu ; a THE " ATTWOOD." 3 London alderman going up the Rhine for two months — he's got his courier, and a strong carriage, with the springs well corded fur the pave ; — bat they come too fast for counting ; so now I'll have a look after my berth. Alas ! the cabin has been crowded all the while by some fifty others, wi-angling, scolding, laughing, joking, com- plaining, and threatening, and not a berth to be had. "You've put me next the tiller," said one; "I'm over the boiler," screamed another. " I have the pleasure of speaking to Sir Willoughby Steward," said the captain, io a tall, grey-headed, soldier- like figure, with a closely-buttoned blue frock. " Sir Willoughby, your berth is No 8." " Eh ! that's the way they come it," whispers a Cockney to his friend. " That 'ere chap gets a berth before us all." " I beg your pardon, sir," says the baronet, mildly, " I took mine three days ago." " Oh ! I didn't mean anything, " stammers out the other, and sneaks off. " Laura-Mariar — where's Laurar ? " calls out a shrill voice from the aft-cabin. " Here, ma," replies a pretty girl, who is arranging her ringlets at a glass, much to the satisfaction of a young fellow in a braided frock, that stands gazing at her in the mirror with something very like a smile on hia There's no mistaking that pair of dark-eyed fellows with aquiline noses and black ill-shaven beards — Ham- bui'gh or Dutch Jews, dealers in smuggled lace, cigars, and Geneva watches, and occasionally small money- lenders. How they scan the company, as if calculating the profit they might turn them to ! The very smile they wear seems to say, " Comme c'est doux de tromper les C/trefiois." * But, halloa ! there was a splash ! we are moving, and the river is now more amusing than the passengers. I should like to see the man that ever saw London from the Thames ; or any part of it, save the big dome of * How sweet it is to take the Christians in. B 2 4 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEART. St. Pftiil's, the top of tlie Monament, or the gable of the great black wharf inscribed with " Hodgson's Pale Ale." What a devil of a row they do make ! I thought we were into that fellow. See, here's a wherry actually under our bow ; where is she now ? are they all lost already ? No ! there they go, bobbing up and down, and looking after us, as if asking why we didn't sail over them. Ay ! there comes an Indiaman, and that little black slug that's towing her up against the stream, is one of the Tug Company's craft ; and see how all the others at anchor keep tossing and pitching about as we pass by, like an awkward room-full of company, rising at each new arrival. There's Greenwich ! a fine thing Greenwich. I like the old fellows that the First Lord always makes stand in front, without legs or arms ; a cheery sight : and there's a hulk, or an hospital ship, or something of that kind. *' That's the ' Hexcellent,' " said a shrill voice behind me. " Ah ! I know her, she's a revenue cruiser." Lord! what liars the Cockneys are ! The plot thickens every moment ; here come little bright green and gold things, shooting past like dragon-Hies skimming the water, steaming down to Gi-ave.send. What a mob of parasols cover the deck, and what kissing of hands and waving of handkerchiefs to anonymous acquaintances nowhere. More .steamers — here's the " Boulogne boat," followed by the Ostender, and there, rounding the reach, comes the Ramsgate ; and a white funnel, they say, is the Cork packet ; and yonder, with her steam escaping, is the Edinburgh, her deck crowded with soldiers. " Port — port it is — steady there — steady." " Do you dine, sir?" quoth the steward to the pale gen- tleman. A faint "Yes." "And the ladies too?" A more audible " Xo." " I say, steward," cries Sir Peter, " what's the hour for dinner? " *' Four o'clock, sir, after we pass Gravesend." ' Bring me some brandy and water and a biscuit, then." " Lud, p'i ! " THE " ATTWOOD. *' To be sure, dear, we shall be sick in the pool. They Kay there's a head wind." How crowded the}' are on the fure-part of the vessel ! six carriages and eight horses ; the latter belong to a Dutch dealer, who, by the bye, seems a shrewd fellow, and well knowing the exti-eme sympathy between horses and asses, leaves the care of his to some Cockneys, who come down every half-hour to look after the tarpaulins, inspect the coverings, see the knee-caps safe, and ask if they want " 'ay ; " and all this, that to soine others on l)oard they may appear as sporting characters, well versed in turf affairs, and quite up to stable management. When the life and animation of the crowded river is passed, how vexatious it is to hear for the thousandth time the dissertations on English habits, customs, and constitu- tion, delivered by some ill-informed, under-bred fellow or o^her to some eager German — a Frenchman, happily, is too self-sufficient ever to listen — who greedily swallows the farrago of absurdity, which, according to the politics of his informant, represents the nation in a plethora o*^ prosperity, oi the last stage of inevitable ruin. I sc!..,rcely know which I detest the more ; the insane toryism of the one is about as sickening as the rabid radicalism of the other. The absurd misapprehensions foreigners entertain about us, are, in nine cases out of ten, communicated by our own people ; and in this way, I have always remarked a far greater degree of ignorance about England and the English to prevail among those who have passed some weeks in the country, than among such as had never visited our shores. With the foi'mer, the Thames Tunnel is our national boast ; raw beef and boxing our national predilections ; the public sale of our wives a national practice. " But what's this ? our paddles are backed. Anything wrong, steward ? " "No, sir, only another passenger coming aboard." " How they pull, and there's a stiff sea running, too. A queer figure that is in the stern sheets ; what a beard he has ! " I had just time for the observation, when a tall, athletic man, wrapped in a wide blue cloak, sprang on the deck— 6 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR O LEART. his eyes were shaded by larp^e green spectacles and the l.)voad brim of a very projecting hat; a black beard a labbi might have envied, descended from his chin, and hung down upon his bosom ; he chucked a crown-piece to the boatman as he leaned over the bulwark, and then turning to the steward, called out — "Eln Jem! all right r " "Yes, sir, all right," said the man, touching his hat res pec till 11}'. The tall figure immediately disappeared down the com- panion ladder, leaving me in the most puzzling state of doubt as to what manner of man he could possibly be. Had the problem been more easy of solution I should scarcely have resolved it when he again emerged — but how changed ! The bi'oad beaver had given place to a bhie cloth foraging cap with a gold band around it; the beard had disajjpeared totally, and left no successor save a well-rounded chin ; the spectacles also had vanished, and a pair of sharp, intelligent grey eyes, with a most uncommon degree of knowingness in their expression, shone forth ; and a thin and most accurately curled moustache graced his upper lip, and gave a character of Vandykism to his features, Avhich were really handsome. In person he was some six feet two, tiracefuUy but strongly built ; his costume, without anything ai)proaching con- ceit, was the perfection of fashionable attire — even to his gloves there was nothing which d'Orsay could have criti- cized ; while his walk was the very type of that mode of progression which is only learned thoroughly by a daily stroll down St. James's-strcet, and the frequent practice of passing to and irom Crockford's, at all hours of the day and night. The expression of his features was something so striking, 1 could not lielp noting it. There was a jauntinet,b, an ea.se, no smirking, half-bred, self-satistied look, such as a London linendraper might wear on his tiip to Margate ; but a consummate sense of his own personal attractions and great natural advantages had given a character to hig Jeatures which seemed to say — it's quite clear there's no coming up tome; don't try it — nascUur nonjit. Ilis very voice implied it. The veriest commonplace fell irom him THE ** ATTWOOD." with a lonk, a smile, a gesture, a something or other that iiiiide it tell ; and men repeated his sayings without know- ing that his was a liquor that was lost in decanting. The way in which he scanned the passengers — and it was done in a second — -was the practised observance of one who reads character at a glance. Over the Cockneys, and they were numerous, his eyes merely passed without bestowing any portion of attention ; while to the lady part of thf> company his look was one of triumphant satisfaction, such as Louis XIV. might liave bestowed when he gazed at the thousands in the garden of Versailles, and exclaimed, " Out ! ce sont mns si/Jefs.'"* Such was the Honourable Jack Smallbranes, younger son of a peer, ex-captain in the Life Guards, winner of the Derby, but now the cleared- out man of fashion flying to the Continent to escape from the Fleet, and cautiously coming aboard in disguise below Gravesend, to escape the bore of a bailiff, and what he called the horror of bills " detested." We read a great deal about Cincinnatus cultivating his cabbages, and we hear of Washington's retirement when the active period* of his career had passed over; and a hundred similar instances are quoted for our admiration of men who could throw themselves at once from all the whirlwind excitement of great events, and seek in the humblest and least obtrusive position, an occupation and an enjoyment. But I doubt very much if your ex-man of fashion, your ci-devant winner of the Derb}^ — the adored of Almack's — the enfant cheri of Crockford's and the Clarendon, whose equipage was a model, whose plate was perfection, for whom life seemed too short for all the fascinations wealth spread around him, and each day brought the one embari^assment how to enjoy enough — I repeat it, I doubt much if he, when the hour of his abdi- cation arrives — and that it will arrive sooner or later not even himself entertains a doubt — when Holditch protests, and Bevan proceeds ; when steeds are sold at Tattersall's and pictures at Christie's ; when the hounds pass over to the next new victim, and the favourite for the St. Leger, backed with mighty odds, is now entered under another name ; when in lieu of the bright eyes and honied words * Yes ! tliese are my subjects. 8 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. that make life a fairy tale, his genii are black-whiskered bailiH's and auctioneers' appraisers — if he, when the tide ut Ibrtinie sets in so strong against him, can not only sustain liimself for a while against it, and when too powerful at last, can lie upon the current and float as gaily down, as ever he did joyously up, the stream — then, say 1, all your ancient and modern instances are far below him. All your warriors and statesmen are but poor pretenders compared to him, they have retired like rich shop-keepers, to live on the interest of their lortuue, which is fame j while he, deprived of all the accessories which gave him rank, place, and power, must seek within his own resources ior all the i'uture springs of his pleasure, and be satisfied to stand sjiectator of the game in which he was once the })rincipal ])layer. A most admirable specimen of this philosopliy was presented by our new passenger, who, as he lounged against the binnacle, and took a deliberate survey of his fellow-travellers, formed the very ideal of unbroken ease and undisturbed enjoyment. He knew he was ruined ; he knew he had neither house in town or country ; neither a steed, nor a yacht, iior a preserve ; he was fully aware that Storr and Mortimer, who but yester- day would have given him a mountain of silver, would not trust him with a mustard-pot to-day ; tliat even the " legs " would laugh at him if he offered the odds on the Derby ; and yet if you w^ere bound on oath to select the happiest fellow on board, by the testimony of your eyes, the choice would not have taken you five minutes. His attitude was ease itself; his legs slightly crossed, perhaps the better to exhibit a very well-rounded instep, which shone ibrth in all the splendour of French varnish ; his travelling cap jauntily thrown on one side so as to display to better advantage his perfumed locks, that floated in a ^.'raceful manner somewhat lengthily on his neck; the shawl around his neck had so much of negligence as to show that the sjilendid enamel pin that fastened it was a thing of little moment to the wearer. Ail wore in keeping with the nonchalant ease and self-satisfaction of his look, as with half-droof)ing lids he surveyed the deck, caressing with his jewelled fingers the silky line of his moustache, and evidently enjoying in hie inmost soul the triumphant scene THE " ATTWOOD." 9 of conquest bis very appearance excited. Indeed, a less practised observer than himself could not fail to remark the unequivocal evidences the lady portion of the com- munity bore to his success : the old ones looked boldly at him with that fearless intrepidity that characterizes con- scious security ; their property was insured, and they cared not how near the fire came to them ; the very young participated in the sentiment from an opposite reason — theirs was the unconsciousness of danger ; but there was a middle term, what Balzac calls " lafenime de trente ans," and she either looked over the bulwarks, or at the funnel, or on her book, anywhere in short but at our friend, who appeared to watch this studied denial on her part with the same kind of enjoyment the captain of a frigate would contemplate the destruction his broadsides were making on his enemy's rigging; and perhaps the latter never deemetl his conquest more assured by the hauling down of the enemy's colours than did the " Honourable Jack," when a let-down veil convinced him that the lady could bear no more. I should like to have watched the proceedings ou deck, where, although no acquaintance had yet been formed, the indications of such were clearly visible. The alderman's daughters evincing a decided preference for walking on that side where Jack was standing, he studiously perform- ing some small act of courtesy from time to time as they passed, removing a seat, kicking any small fragment of rope, &c. ; but the motion of the packet warned me that note-takingr was at an end, and the best thiuo" I could do would be to " compose " myself. " What's the number, sir?" said the steward, as I stag. gei'ed down the companion. " I have got no berth," said I, mournfully. " A dark horse, not placed," said the Honourable Jack, smiling pleasantly as he looked after me, while 1 threv/ myself on a sofa, and cursed the sea. 10 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o"leaRY. CHAPTER II. THE ^A^SPORT — A PFK1L0C8 ADVENTURE— MINE HOST 0? THE BOAR'B HEAD. If the noise nncl bustle -which attend a wedding, like trumpets in a battle, are intended as provisions against reflection, so firmly do I feel the tortures of sea-sickness are meant as antagonists to all the terrors of drowning, and all the horrors of shipwreck. Let him who has felt the agonies of that internal earth- quake which the "pitch and toss '' motion of a ship com- municates — who knows what it is to have his diaphragm vibrating between his ribs and the back of his throat, confess how little to him was all the confusion which he listened to over head! how poor the interest he took in the welfare of the craft wherein he was " only a h)dger," and how narrowed were all his sympathies witliiu the small circle of bottled porter, and brandy and water, the steward's infallibles in suffering. I lay in my narrow crib, moodily pondering over these things, now wondering within myself what charms of travel could recompense such agonies as these ; now mutr tering a curse, " not loud, but deep," on the heavy gentleman whose ponderous tread on the quarter-deck seemed to promenade up and down the surface of my own pericranium. The greasy steward, the jolly captain, the brown-faced, black-whiskered king's messenger, who snored away on the sofa, all came in for a share of my maledic- tions, and 1 took out my cares in curses upon the whole party. [Meanwhile I could distinguish, amid the other sounds, the elastic tread of certain light feet that pattered upon the quarter-deck; and I could not mistake the assured footstep which accompanied them, nor did I need the liappy roar of laughter that mixed with the noise to satisfy myself that the " Honourable Jack " was then cultivating the alderman's daught(;rs, discoursing moat THE PASSPORT. 11 eloquently upon the fascinations of those exclusive circles ulierein be was wont to move, and explaining, on the cleai-est pi"inciples, what a frightful chasm his absence must create in the London world — how deplorably flat the season would go off, where he was no actor — and wondering who, among the aspirants of high ambitioiL would venture to assume his line of character, and supplj? his place, either on the turf or at the table. But at length the stage of semi-stupor came over me ; the noises became commixed in my head, and I lost all consciousness so completel}^, that, whether from brandy or sickness, I fancied I saw the steward flirting with the ladies, and the "Honourable Jack " skipping about with a white apron, uncorking porter bottles, and changing sixpences. ****** The same effect which the announcement of dinner produces on the stiff party in the drawing-room, is caused by the information of being alongside the quay, to the passengers of a packet. It is true the procession is not so formal in the latter as in the former case. The tur- baned dowagers that take the lead in one, would more than probably be last in the other ; but what is lost in decorum, is more than made up in hilarity. What hunting for carpet-bags 1 what opening and shutting of lockers ! what researches into portmanteaus, to extricate certain seizable commodities, and stow them away upon the person of the owner, till at last he becomes an imper- sonation of smuggling, with lace in his boots, silk stock- ings in his hat, brandy under his waistcoat, and jewelry in the folds of his cravat. There is not an item in the tariff that might not be demonstrated in his anatomy. From his shoes to his night-cap, he is a living sarcasm uDon the revenue. And, after all, what is the searching porutmy of your Quarterly Reviewer, to the all-penetrating eye of an excise officer? He seems to look into the w-hole contents of your wardrobe before you have unlocked the trunk " warranted solid leather," and with a glance appears to distinguish the true man from the knave, 12 TIIR ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR O'LEARY. knowing, as if by intuition, the precise number of cam- bric liamlkfirliiefs that, belit your condition in life, and wlicthtT ytiu have trans^grcssed the bounds of your station by a singk' bottle of " Eau-de-Cologne." "What i dinirable training for a novelist would a year or two fc;]icnt in such duties afJbrd ; Avhat singular views of life; what strange people must he see; how much of narrative would even the narrow limits of a hat-box present to him ; and how naturally would a story spring from the rosy-cheeked old gentleman, paying his duty upon a "■ pate de Joie gras" to his pretty daughter, en- deavouring, by a smile, to diminish the tariff on her French bonnet, and actually captivate a custom-house oificer by the charms of her " rohc. a la Victorine." The French " douaniers " are droll fellows, and are the only ones 1 have ever met who descend from the important gravity of their profession, and venture upon a joke. I shall never forget entering Valenciennes late one night, with a large "Diligence" party, among which was a corpulent countryman of my own, making his first con- tinental tour. It was in those days when a passport piesented a written portrait of the bearer: when the shape of your nose, the colour of your hair, the cut of your beard, and the angle of incidence of your eyebi-ow, were all noted down and commented on, and a general sum- ming-up of the expression of your features, collectively, appended to the wh(jle ; and you went fortli to the worlu with an air ''mild," or "military;" " fieeble," " fascinat- iTig," or " ferocious," exactly as the Foreign Office chose. It was in those days, I say, when, on entering the fortress of Valenciennes, the door of the " Diligence " was rudely thrown open, and, by the dim flicker of a lamp, we beheld a moustached, stern-looking fellow, who rudely demanded our pas.sports. JSly fat companion, suddenly awakened from his sleep, searched his various pockets with all the trepidation of a new traveller, and at length produced his credentials, wliich he handed, with a polite bow, to the official. Whatever the nature of the description might have been I cannot f^ay, but it certainly produced tlie most striking effect on the passport officers, who laughed loud and long as they read it over. ^0, iyrU'/CV A PERILOUS ADVENTURE. 13 " Descendez, Monsieur,^^ said the chief of the party, in a tone of stern command. " What does he say ? " said the traveller, in a very decided western accent. "You must get out, sir," said I. *' Tare-and-ages," said Mr. Moriarty, "what's wrong ? " After considerable squeezing, for he weighed about twenty stone, he disengaged himself from the body of the " Diligence," and stood erect upon the ground. A second lantei'n was now produced, and while one of the officei s stood on either side of him, with a light beside his face, a third read out the clauses of the passport, and compared the description with the original. Hajipily Mr. Moriarty's ignorance of French saved him from the penalty of listen- ing to the comments which were passed upon his " nez retrousse,'' " louche ouverfe,'^ / eyes ! " " What," said I, " do you mean ? " *' Ja !" was the only reply. " If you know English, why won't you speak it?" " D n /lis eyes !" said he with a deep solemn tone. "Is that all you know of the language?" cried I, stamping with impatience. '■ Can you say no more than that?" "D n 1/our eyes!" ejaculated he, with as much composure as though he were maintaining an earnest conver.sation. AVhen I had sufficiently recovered from the hearty fit of laughter this colloquy occasioned me, I began by signs, STRANGE CHARACTERS. 35 such as melo-dramatic people make to express sleep, placing my head in the hollow of my hand, snoring and yawning, to represent that I stood in need of a bod. *' Ja !" cried my companion with more energy than before, and led the way down one narrow street^ and up another, traversing lanes where two men could scarcely go abreast, until at length we reached a branch of the Scheldt, along which we continued for about twenty minutes. Suddenly the sound of voices shouting a species of Dutch tunc — for so its unspeakable words, and wooden turns, bespoke it — apprised me that we were near a house where the people were yet astii\ " Ha !" said I, " this is a hotel then." Another " Ja !" "What do they call it?" A shake of the head. •' That will do ; good night," said I, as I saw the bright lights gleaming from the small diamond panes df an old Flemish window ; " I am much obliged to you." "D n your eyes!" said my friend, taking off his hat politely, and making me a low bow, while he added something in Flemish, which I sincerely trust was of a more polite and complimentary import than his parting benediction in English. As I turned from the Fleming, I entered a naxTOw hall, which led by a low-arched door into a large room, along which a number of tables were placed, each crowded by its own party, who clinked their cans and vociferated a chorus which, from constant repetition, rings still in my memory — • " Wenn die wein is;t in die mann, Der weisdheid den ist in die kan ;" or in the vernacular — • " ^Yhen the wine is in the man, Then is the wisdom in the can ;" a sentiment which a very brief observation of their faces induced me perfectly to concur in. Over th.-; chimney- piece an inscription was painted in letters of about a foot D 2 86 THE ADVENTURES OF AETHUR o'lEARY. long, "Hier verkoopt man Bier," implying, what a very cursory observation might have conveyed to any one, even on the evidence of his nose, that beer was a very attainable fluid in the establishment. The floor was sanded, and the walls whitewashed, save whei'e some pictorial illustrations of Flemish habits were displayed in black chalk, or the smoke of a candle. As I stood uncertain whether to advance or retreat, a large portly Fleming, with a great waistcoat, made of the skin of some beast, eyed me steadfastly from head to foot, and then, as if divining ray embai-rassment, beckoned me to approach, and pointed to a seat on the bench beside him. I was not long in availing myself of his politeness, and before half an hour elapsed, found myself with a bi-ass can of beer, about eighteen inches in height, before me ; while I was smoking away as though I had been born within the " dykes," and never knew the luxury of dry land. Around the table sat some seven or eight others, whose phlegmatic look and sententious aspect convinced me they were Flemings. At the far end, however, was one whose dark eyes, flashing beneath heavy shaggy eyebrows, huge whiskers, and bronzed complexion, distinguished him sufficiently from the rest. He appeared, too, to have something of respect paid him, inasmuch as the others invariably nodded to him whenever the-y lifted their cans to their mouths. He woi'e a low fur cap on his head, and his dark blue frock Avas trimmed also Avitli fur, and slashed witli a species of braiding, like an undi'ess uniform. Unlike the rest, he spoke a great deal, not only to his own party, but maintaining a conversation with various others tlirough the room — sometimes speaking French, tlien Dutch, and occasionally changing to German or Italian, Avilli all which tongues he appeared so familiar, tliat 1 was fairly puzzled to what country to assign him. I could mark at times that he stole a sly glance over towards where I wos sitting, and, more than once, I thought I observed him watching what elTect his voluble powers as a linguist was producing upon me. At last our eyes met, he smiled politely, and taking up the can before hini, he bowed, saying, "A voire sanlc, monsieur.'' I acknowledged the compliment at once, and seizing the STRANGE CHARACTERS. 37 opportunity, begged to know of wliat land so accomplished a linguist was a native. His face brightened up at once, a certain smile of self-satisfied triumj:)!! passed over his features, he smacked his lips, and then poured out a torrent of strange sounds, which, from their accent, I guessed to be Russian. " Do you speak Slavonic ? " said he in French ; and as I nodded a negative, he added — " fc*panish, — Portuguese ? " "Neither," said I. " Where do you come from, then ? " asked he, retorting my question. " Ireland, if you may have hoard of such a place." " Hurroo ! " cried he, with a yell that made the room start with amazement. " By the powers ! I thought so ; come up, my hearty, and give me a sbake of your hand." If I were astonished before, need I say how I felt now ? "And you are really a countryman of mine ? " said I, as I took my seat beside him. "Faith, I believe so. Con O'Kelly does not sound very like Italian, and that's my name, anyhow ; but wait a bit, they're calling on me for a Dutch song, and when I've done we'll have a chat together." A very uproarious clattering of brass and pewter cans on the tables announced that the company was becoming impatient for Mynheer O'Kelly's performance, which he immediately began ; but of either the words or air, I can render no possible account ; I only know there was a kind of refrain or chorus, in which all, round each table, took hands, and danced a " grand round," making the most diabolical clatter with wooden shoes I ever listened to. After which, the song seemed to subside into a low droning sound, implying sleep. The singer nodded his head, the company followed the example, and a long heavy note, like snoring, was heard through the room, when suddenly, with a hiccup, he awoke, the others did the same, and then the song broke out once more, in all its vigour, to end as before, in another dance, an exercise in which I certainly fared worse than my neighbours, who tramped on my corns without mercy, leaving it a very questionable fact how far his " pious, glorious, and immortal memory " was 432271 83 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'LEART, to be respected, who had despoiled my country of " wooden Bhoes," when walking oti" with its brass money. The melody over, Mr, 0' Kelly proceeded to question me somewhat minutely, as to how I had chanced upon this house, which was not known to many, even of the residents of Antwerp. I briefly explained to him the circumstances which led me to my present asylum, at which he laughed heartily. *' You don't know, then, where you are ? " said he, look- ing at me, with a droll half-suspicious smile. " No ; it's a Schenck Haus, I suppose," replied I. " Yes, to be sure, it is a Schenck Haus ; but it's the resort only of smugglers, and those connected with their traffic. Every man about you, and there are, as you see, some seventy or eighty, are all either sea-faring folks, or landsmen associated with them, in contraband trade." " But how is this done so openly ? the house is surely known to the police." " Of course, and they arc well paid for taking no notice of it." " And you? " " ]Me ! Well, I do a little that v/ay too, though it's only a branch of my business. I'm only Dirk Hatteraick, when I come down to the coast : then you know a man doesn't like to be idle ; so that when I'm hero, or on the Bretagny shore, I generally mount the red cap, and buckle on the cutlass, just to keep moving ; as, when I go inland, I take an occasional turn with the gipsy folk in Bohemia, or their brethren in the Basque provinces. There's nothing like being up to everything — that's mi/ way." I confess I was a good deal surprised at my companion's account of him.sclf, and not over impressed with the rigour of his principles ; but my curiosity to know more of him became so much the stronger. " Well," said I, "you seem to have a jolly life of it; and, certainly a heallhllil one." " Ay, that it is," replied he quickly. " I've more than once thought of going back to Kcriy, and living quietly for the rest of my days, for I could afford it well enough ; but, somehow, the thought of staying in one place, talking always to the same set of people, seeing every day the STEANGE CHARACTEKS. 89 Game sights, and hearing the same eternal little gossip about little things, and little folk, was too much for mo, and so I stuck to the old trade, which I supjjose I'll not give up now as long as I live." " And what may that be ? " asked I, curious to know how he filled up moments snatched from the agreeable pursuits he had ali^eady mentioned. lie eyed me with a shrewd, suspicious look, for above a minute, and then, laying down his hand on my arm, said — " Where do you put up at, here in Antwerp ? " *' The ' St. Antoine.' " " Well, I'll come over for you to-morrow evening about nine o'clock ; you're not engaged, are you? " "No, I've no acquaintance here." "At nine, then, be ready, and you'll come and take a bit of supper with me ; and in exchange for your news of the old country, I'll tell you something of my career." I readily assented to a proposal which promised to make me better acquainted with one evidently a character; and after half an hour's chatting, I arose. " You're not going away, are you ? " said he. "Well, I can't leave this yet ; so I'll just send a boy to show you the way to the ' St. Antony.' " With that he beckoned to a lad at one of the tables, and addressing a few words in Flemish to him, he shook me warmly by the hand. The whole room rose respect- fully as I took my leave, and I could see that " Mr. O'Kelly's friend " stood in no small estimation with the company. The day was just breaking when I reached my hotel ; but I knew I could poach on the daylight for what the dark had robbed me ; and besides, my new acquaintance promised to repay the loss of a night's sleep, should it even come to that. Punctual to his appointment, my newlj'-made friend knocked at my door exactly as the cathedral was chiming for nine o'clock. His dress was considerably smarter than on the preceding evening, and his whole air and bearing bespoke a degree of quiet decorum and reserve, very different from his free-and-easy carriage in the '* Fischer's Haus." As I accompanied him through the 40 THE ADVENTURES OF AUTIIUR o'lEARY. porie-cocliere, we passed the landlord, -who saluted us with much politeness, shaking my companion by the hand like an old friend. " You are acquainted hero, I sec," said I. *' There are few landlords from Lubeck to Leghorn I don't know by this time," was the reply, and he smiled as he spoke. A Ciilei^lie with one horse was waiting for us without, and into this we stepped. The driver had got his direc- tions, and plying his whip briskly, we rattled over the paved stiTcts, and passing through a considerable part of the town, arrived at last at one of the gates. Slowly crossing the draw-bridge at a walk, we set out again at a trot, and soon I could perceive, through the half light, that we had traversed the suburbs and were entering the open country. " We've not far to go now," said my companion, who seemed to suspect that I was meditating over the length of the way ; " where you see the lights yonder — that's our ground." The noise of the wheels over the stones soon after ceased, and I found we were passing across a grassy lawn in front of a large house, which, even by the twilight, I could detect was built in the old Flemish taste. A squai'e tower flunked one cxti-emity, and from the upper part of this tlie light gleamed to which my companion pointed. We descended from the carriage at the foot of a long terrace, which, though dilapidated and neglected, bore still some token of its ancient splendour. A stray statue here and there remained, to mark its former beauty, while, close by, the hissing splash of wafer told that ixjet d'eaie was ])laying away, unconscious that its river gods, dolphins, and tritons had long since departed. " A fine old place once," said my new friend ; " the old chateau of Overghem — one of the richest seignories of Flanders in its day — sadly changed now ; but come, follow me." So saying, he led the way into the hall, where detaching a rude lantern that was hung against the wall, he ascended the broad oak stairs. I could trace, bj the fitful gleam of the light, that the STRANGE CHARACTERS. 41 walls had been painted in fresco, the arcliitravcs of tlie windows and doors being richly carved in all the grotosquo cxti'avagance of old Flemish art ; a gallery which tra- versed the building, was hung with old pictures, appa- rently family portraits, but they were all either destroyed by damp or rotting with neglect. At the extremity of this, a narrow stair conducted us by a winding ascent to the upper story of the tower, where, for the first time, my companion had recourse to a key ; with this he opened a low pointed door, and ushered me into an apartment, at which I could scarcely help expressing my suz-prise aloud as I entered. The room was of small dimensions, but seemed actually the boudoir of a palace. Rich cabinets in buhl graced tho walls, brilliant in all the splendid costliness of tortoise- shell and silver inlaying — bronzes of the rarest kind, pic- tures, vases ; curtains of gorgeous damask covered the windows, and a chimney-piece of carved black oak, repre- senting a pilgrimage, presented a depth of perspective, and a beauty of design, beyond anything I had ever wit- nessed. The floor was covered with an old tapestry of Oudenarde, spread over a heavy Persian rug, into which the feet sank at every step, while a silver lamp, of antique mould, threw a soft, mellow light around, revolving on an axis, whose machinery played a slow but soothing melody delightfully in harmony with all about. " You like this kind of thing," said my companion, who watched with evident satisfaction the astonishment and admiration with which I regarded every object around me. " Tlaat's a pretty bit of carving there ; that was done by Van Zoost, from a design of Schneider's ; see how tho lobsters are crawling- over the tangled sea-weed there, and look how the leaves seem to fall heavy and flaccid, as if wet with spray. This is good, too ; it was painted by Gherard Dow. It is a portrait of himself; he is making a study of that little boy who stands there on the table ; see how he has disposed the light so as to fall on the little fellow's side, tipping him from the yellow curls of his round bullet head to the angle of his white sabot. " Yes, you're right, that is by Van Dyk ; only a sketch, to be sure, but has all his manner. I like the Velasquez 42 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR 0*LEARY. yonder better, but tliey both jiosscss tlie s;ime excellence. They could represent hirth. Just see that dark fellow thci'e ; he's no beauty, you'll say ; but regard him closely, and tell me if he's one to take a liberty with ; look at his thin, clenched liji, and that long, thin, pointed chin, -with its straight, stiti" beard — can there be a doubt he was a gentleman ? Take care ; gently, j'our elbow grazed it. That is a specimen of the old Japan china — a lost art now — they cannot produce the blue colour you see there, running into green. See, the flowers are laid on after the cup is baked, and the birds are a separate thing after all. ]Jut come, this is, perhaps, tiresome work to you ; follow me." Notwithstanding my earnest entreaty to remain, he took me by the arm, and opening a small door, covered by a mirror, led me into another room, the walls and ceiling of which were in dark oak wainscot ; a single picture occupied the space above the chimney, to which, however, I gave little attention, my eyes being fixed upon a most appetizing sujipcr, which figured on a small table in the middle of the room. Not even the savoury odour of the good dishes, or my host's entreaty to begin, could turn me from the contemplation of the antique silver covers, carved in the richest fashion. The handles of the knives were fashioned into representations of saints and angels, the costly ruby glasses, of Venetian origin,were surrounded with cases of gold filagree, of most delicate and beautiful ' character. " We must be our own attendants," said the host. *' What have you there ? Here are some Ostend oystex's, * en matelot ;' ih^i i^ a small capon Ini/fe; and here are some cutlets ' aux j^oinfs rrasperrje.' But let us begin, and explore as we proceed. A glass of Chablis with your oysters ; what a pity these Bargundy wines are inacces- fiiblo to you in England I Chablis scarcely bears the sea ; of half a dozen bottles, one is drinkable ; the same of the red Avines ; and what is there co generous ? Not that wo are to despise our old friend. Champagne ; and now that you've helped yourself to a «a^', let us have a bum- per. By the bye, liave tliey abandoned that absui'd notion they used to have in England about Champagne ? ^Vhen BTRANGE CHARACTERS. 43 I was there, they never served it during the firsl, course, Now Champagne should come immediately after youi soup — your glass of Sherry or Madeira is a holocaust offered up to bad cookery ; for if the soup were safe, Chablis or Sautcrne is your fluid. How is the capon ? — good ? I'm glad of it. These countries excel in their pouJardes" In this fashion my companion ran on, accompanying each plate with some commentary on its history or con- coction ; a kind of dissertation, I must confess, I have no manner of objection to, especially when delivered by a host who illustrates his theorem, not by " plates " but " dishes." Supper over, we wheeled the table to the wall, and drawing forward another, on which the wine and dessert were already laid out, prepared to pass a pleasant and happy evening in all form. " Worse countries than Holland, Mr. O'Leary," said my companion, as he sipped his Burgundy, and looked with ecstasy at the rich colour of the wine through the candle. " When seen thus," said I, " I don't know its equal." " Why, perhaps this is rather a favourable specimen of a smuggler's cave, " replied he, laughing. " Better than old Dirk's, eh? By the bye, do you know Scott?" " No ; I am sorry to say that I am not acquainted ■with him." "What the devil could have led him into such a blunder as to make Hatteraick, a regular Dutchman, sing a German song? Why, ' Ich Bin liederlich ' is good Hoch-Deutsch and Saxon to boot. A Hollander might just as well have chanted modern Greek, or Coptic. I'll wager you that Rubins there, over the chimney, against a crown-piece, you'll not find a Dutchman, from Dort to Nimwegen, could repeat the lines that he has made a regular national song of ; and again, in Quentin Durward, he has made all the Liege folk speak German. That was even a worse mistake. Some of them speak French ; but the nation, the people, are Walloons, and have as much idea of German as a Hottentot has of the queen of hearts. Never mind, he s a glorious fellow for all that, and here's his health. When will Ireland have his equal to chronicle 44 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. her feats of field and flood, and make her land as classic as Scott has done his own ! " While we rambled on, chatting of all that came upper- most, the wine passed freely across the narrow table, and the eveninj^ wore on. My curiosity to know more of one who, on whatever he talked, seemed thoroughly informed, grew gradually more and more ; and at last I ventured to remind him that he had half promised me the previous evening to let me hear something of his own history. " Xo, no," said he," laughing; "story-telling is poor work tor the teller and the listener too ; and when a man's tale has not even brought a moral to himself, it's scarcely likely to be more generous towards his neighbour." " Of, course," said I ; " I have no claim as a stranger — " " Oh, as to that," interrupted he, "somehow I feel as though we were longer acquainted. I've seen much of the world, and know by this time that some men begin to know each other from the starting-post — others never do, though they travel a life long together ; so that, on that score, no modesty. If you care for my story, fill your glass, and let's open another flask ; and here it's for you, though I warn you beforehand the narrative is somewhat of the lungcfat." 45 CHAPTER y. THE SMUGGLF.r's STORT. 'I CAN tell you but little about my familj^," said my host, stretching out his legs to the fire, and crossing his arms easily before him. " My grandfather was in the Austrian service, and killed in some old battle with the Turks. My father, Peter O' Kelly, was shot in a duel by an attorney from Youghal. Something about nailing his ear to the pump, I've heard tell was the cause of the row ; for he came down to my father's with a writ, or a process, or something of the kind. N'o matter — the thief had pluck in him ; and when Peter— my father that was — told him he'd make a gentleman of him, and fight him, if he'd give up the bill of costs, why, the temptation was too strong to resist; he pitched the papers into the fire, went out the same morning, and faith he put in his bullet as fair as if he was used to the performance. I was only a child then, ten or eleven years old, and so I remember nothing of the particulars ; but I was packed off the next day to an old aunt's, a sister of my father's, who resided in the town of Tralee. " Well, to be sure, it was a great change for me, young as I was, from Castle O'Kelly to Aunt Judy's. At home there was a stable full of horses, a big house, generall}^ full of company, and the company as full of fun ; we had a pack of harriers went out twice or thrice a week, had plenty of snipe-shooting, and a beautiful race-course was made round the lawn : and though I wasn't quite of an age to join in these pleasures myself, I had a lively taste for them all, and relished the free-and-easy style of my father's house, without any unhappy forebodings that the amusements there practised would end in leaving me a " Now, my Aunt Judy lived in what might bo called a 46 THE AD\'ENTUEES OP ARTHUR o'lEARY. state of painfully-elegant poverty. Her habitation was somewhat more capacious than a house in a toj'-sliop ; but then it liad all the usual attributes of a hous-o. There "was a hall door, and two windows, and a chimney, and a brass knocker, and, I believe, a scraper ; and within there •were three little rooms, about the dimensions of a mail- coach, each. I think I see the little parlour before me, now this minute : there was a miniature of my father in a red coat over the chimney, and two screens painted by my aunt — landscapes, I am told they were once ; but time and damp had made them look something like the moon seen through a bit of smoked glass ; and there were fire-irons as bright as day, for they never performed any other duty than standing on guard beside the grate — a kind of royal beef-eaters, kept for show ; and there was a little table covered with shells and minerals, bits of coral, conchs, and cheap curiosities of that nature, and over them, again, was a stutfcd macaw. Oh, dear ! I see it all before me, and the little tea service, that if the beverage had been vitriol, a cupful couldn't have harmed you. There wero four chairs; — human ingenuity couldn't smuggle in a fifth. There was one for Father Donncllan, another for Mrs. Brown, the post-mistress, another for the barrack-master, Captain Dwyer, the fourth for my aunt herself ; but then no more were wanted. I^othing but real gentility, the ' ould Irish blood,' would be received by Miss Judy ; and if the post-mistress wasn't fourteenth cousin to somebody, who was aunt to Phelim O'Brien, who was hanged for some humane practice towards the English in former times, the devil a cup of bohea iihe'd have tasted there ! The priest was ex officio, but Captain Dwyer was a gentleman born and bred. His great-grandfather had an estate ; the last three gene- rations had lived on the very reputation of its once being in the family: ^ thej/ weren't upstarts, no, sorrow bit of it ;' ' when they had it they spent it,' and so on, were tho current expressions concerning them. Faith, I will say, that in my time in Ireland — I don't know how it may- be now — the aroma of a good property stood to the de- scendants long after the sul«tance had left them; and if tliey only stuck fast to the place where the family 1 ? THE SJIUGGLER's STORY. 47 once been great, it took at least a couple of generations before they need think of looking- out for a livelihood. "Aunt Judy's revenue was something like eighty pounds a year ; but in Tralee she was not measured by the rule of the 'income tax.' 'Wasn't she own sister to Peter O'Kelly of the Castle ; didn't Brien O'Kelly call at the liouse when he was canvassing for the member, and leave his card; and wasn't the card displayed on the little mahogany table every evening, and wiped and put by every morning, for fifteen years ; and sure the O'Kellya had their own burial-ground, the ' O'Kellys' pound,' as it was called, being a square spot inclosed within a wall, and employed for all ' trespassers ' of tlic family within death's domain. Here was gentility enough, in all conscience, even had the reputation of her evening parties not been the talk of the town. These Averc certainly exclusive enough, and cojisistcd as I have told you. " Aunt Judy loved her rubber, and so did her friends ; and eight o'clock every evening saw the little party assem- bled at a game of ' longs,' for penny points. It was no small compliment to the eyesight of the players, that they could distinguish the cards ; for with long use they had become dimmed and indistinct. The queens had contracted a very tatterdemalion look, and the knaves had got a most vagabond expression for want of their noses, not to speak of other difficulties in dealing, which certainly required an expert hand, all the corners having long disappeared, leaving the operation something like playing at quoits. " The discipline of such an establishment, I need scarcely say, was very distasteful to ine. I was seldom suffered to go beyond t'ne door, more rarely still, alone. My whole amusement consisted in hearing about the an- cient grandeur of the O'Kellys, and listening to a very prosy history of certain martyrs, not one of whom I didn't envy in my heart ; while in the evening I slept beneath the whist table, being too much afraid of ghosts to venture upstairs to bed. It was on one of those even- ings, when the party were assembled as usual ; some freak of mine — I fear I was a rebellious subject — was being disv cussed between the deals, it chanced that by some accident I was awake, and heard the colloquy. 43 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY, " ' 'Tis trutli I'm telling you, ma'am,' quoth my aiint; * you'd think he was mild as milk, and there isn't a name for the wickedness in liim.' " ' When I was in the Buffs there was a fellow of the name of Chxncy ' " ' Play a spade, captain,' said the priest, who had no common horror of the story he had heard every evening for twenty years. "'And did ho really put the kitten into the oven?' inquired JNIrs. Brown. " ' Worse than that — he brought in Healy's buck goat yestei'day, and set him opposite the looking-glass, and the beast, thinking he saw another oi^posite him, bolted straightforward, and, my dear, he stuck his horns through the middle of it. There isn't a piece as big as the ace of diamonds.' " ' When I was in the Buffs ' " ' 'Tis at say he ought to be — don't you think so, cap- tain ?' said the priest -' them's trumps.' " ' I beg your pardon, Father Donnellan ; let me look at the trick. Well I'm sure I pity you, Miss O'Kelly.' " ' And why wouldn't you ! his mother had a bad drop in her, 'tis easy seen. Sure, Peter that's gone, rest his soul in peace, he never harmed man nor beast ; but that child there has notions of wickedness that would surprise you. My elegant cornelian necklace he's taken the stones out of, till it nearly chokes me to put it on.' '"When I was in the Buffs, Miss O'Kelly, there was ' "'Pay fourpence,' said the priest, pettishly, *and cut tlie cai'ds. As I was saying, I'd send him to " say," and if the stories be thi-ue I hear, he's not ill-titted for it ; he does be the most of his time up there at the caves of Ballybunniou, with the smugglers.' " My aunt crimsoned a little at this, as I could riCC from my place on the hearth-rug ; for it was only the day be- fore I had brought in a package of gi'een tea, obtained from the quarter alluded to. " ' I'd send him to Banagher to-morrow,' said he, reso- lutely ; ' I'd send him to school.' I THE smuggler's STORY. 49 " * There was one Clancy, I was saying, a great devil he Tvas ' " ' And I'aix ould Martin will flog his ti'icks out of him, if birch will do it,' said the priest. "' ' Tis only a fortnight since he put hot cinders in the letter-box, and burned half the Dublin bag,' said Mrs. Brown. ' The town will be well rid of him.' " This was exactly the notion I was coming to myself, though dill'ering widely as to the destination by which I was to manage my exchange out of it. The kind wishes of the party towards me, too, had another effect — it nerved me with a courage I never felt before — and when^ I took the first opportunity of a squabble at the whist- table to make my escape from the room, I had so little fear of ghosts and goblins, that I opened the street-door, and, although the way led under the wall of the churchyard,, set out on my travels, in a direction which was to in- fluence all my after life. " I had not proceeded far when I overtook some cars on their way to Tarbert, on one of which I succeeded in ob- taining a scat ; and, by daybreak, arrived at the Shan- non, the object of my desires, and the goal of all my wishes. " The worthy priest had not calumniated me in saying that my associates were smugglers. Indeed, for weeks past, I never missed any opportunity of my aunt leaving the house, without setting out to meet a party who fre- quented a small public-house, about three miles from Tralee, and with whom I made more than one excursion to the caves of Ballybunnion. It was owing to an acci- dental piece of information I afforded them — that the- revenue force was on their track — that I first learned to know these fellows ; and from that moment I was a sworn friend of every man among them. To be sure, they were a motley crew. The craft belonged to Flushing, and the skipper himself- was a Fleming ; the others were Kinsalo fishermen, Ostenders, men from the coast of Bi-etagne, a Norwegian pilot, and a negro who acted as cook. Tbeif jovial style of life, the apparent good humour and good fellowaliip that subsisted among them, a dash of reckles.s devil-may-care sririt, resembling a schoolb^iy's love of fac E 60 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. ■ — all captivated me ; and when I found myself on board tliG ' Dart,' as she lay at anchor under the shadow of the tall cliffs, and saw the crew burnishing up pistols and cutlasses, and making ready for a cruise, I had a proud heart when they told me I might join and be one among them. I su^^pose every boy has something in his nature that inclines him to adventure. It was strong enough in me, certainly. " The hardy, weather-beaten faces of my companions — their strong muscular frames — their coarse uniform of striped Jersey wear, Avith black belts crossing on the chest — all attracted my admiration : and from the red bunting that floated at our gaff, to the I'l-ass swivels that peeped from our bows, the whole ci-aft tlelighted me. I w^as not long in acquiring the rough habits and manners of my associates, and speedily became a favourite with every one on board. All the eccentricities of my venerable aunt, all the peculiarities of Father Donnellan, were dished up by me for their amusement, and they never got tired laughing at the desci"ij)tion of the whist-table. Besides, I was able to afford them much valuable information about the neigh- bouring genfi'y, all of whom I knew, either personally or bv name. I was at once, therefore, employed as a kind of diplomatic envoy to ascertain if Mr. Blennerbassett wouldn't like a hogshead of brandy, or the Kuight of Glynn a pipe of claret, in addition to many minor embas- sies among the shebeen houses of the country, concerning nigger-heads of tobacco, packages of tea, smuggled lace, and silk handkerchiefs, " Thus was my education begun ; and an apter scholar, in all the art and mystery of smuggling, could scarcely liave hccn found. I had a taste for picking up languages ; and, before my first cruise was ovez", had got a very toler- able smattering of French, Dutch, and Norwegian, and some intimacy with the fashionable dialect used on the banks of the Niger. Other accomplishments followed these. I was a capital pistol shot — no bad hand with the small-sword — could reef and steer, and had not my equal on board in detecting a revenue officer, no matter how artfully disguised. Such were my professional — my Bocial quri'^'"»>:ons far exceeded these. I could play a I THE smuggler's STORY. 51 little on the violin and the guitar, and was able to throw into rude verse any striking incident of our wild career, and adajit an air to it, for the amusement of my compan- ions. These I usually noted down in a book, accompany, ing them with pen illustrations and notes ; and I assure you, however little literary reputation this volume might have acquired, ' O'Kelly's Log,' as it was called, formed the great delight of ' Saturday night at sea.' These things were all too local and personal in their interest to amuse any one who didn't know the parties ; but mayhap one day or other I'll give you a sight of the ' log,' and let you hear some of our songs. " I won't stop to detail any of the adventures of my seafaring life ; strange and wild enough they were in all conscience : one night staggering under close-i'eefed canvas under a lee-shore ; another, carousing with a jolly set in a ' Schenck Haus ' at Rotterdam or Ostend ; now hiding in the dark caves of Ballybunnion while the craft stood out to sea ; now disguised, taking a run up to Paris, and dining in the ' Cafe de I'Empirc,' in all the voluptuous extrava- gance of the day. Adventure fast succeeding on adven- ture, escape upon escape, had given my life a character of wild excitement, which made me feel a single day's repos? a period of ennui and monotony. " Smuggling, too, became only apart of my occupatiot l^Iy knowledge of French, and my power of disguising my apjiearance, enabled me to mix in Parisian society of a certain class Avithout any fear of detection. In this way I obtained, from time to time, information of the greatest consequence to our government ; and once brought some documents from the war department of Ifapoleon, which obtained for me the honour of an interview with Mr. Pitt himself. This part of my career, however, would take me too far away from my story, were I to detail any of the many striking adventures which marked it ; so I'll pass on at once to one of those eventful epochs of my life, two or three of Avhich have changed for the time the cuiTcnt of my destiny. "I was about eighteen : the war with France had just broken out, and the assembled camp at Boulogne threat- ened the invasion of England, The morning we left tha K 2 52 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. French coast, the preparations for the embarkation of the troops were in great forwardness, and certain particulars had reached us which convinced me that Napoleon really intended an attempt, which many were disposed to believe was merely a menace. In fact, an officer of the staff had given me such information as explained the mode of the descent, and the entire plan of the expedition. Before I could avail myself of this, however, we had to land our cargo, an unusually rich one, on the west coast of Ireland, for my companions knew nothing all this time of the system of ' espionage ' I had established, and little sus- pected that one of their crew was in relation with the Prime Minister of England. " I have said I was about eighteen. My wild life, if it nad made me feel older than my years, had given a hardi- hood and enterprise to my character which heightened for me the enjoyment of every bold adventure, and made me feel a kind of ecstasy in every emergency where danger and difficulty were present. I longed to be the skipper of iuy own craft, sweeping the seas at my own will ; a bold Imccaneer, caring less for gain than glory, until my name should win for itself its own meed of fame, and my feats be spoken of with awe and astonishment, " Old Van Brock, our captain, was a hardy Fleming, but all his energy of character, all his daring, were directed to the one object — gain. For this there was nothing he wouldn't attempt, nothing he wouldn't risk. Now, our present voyage was one in which he had em- barked all his capital ; the outbreak of a war warned him that his trade must speedily be abandoned — he could no longer hope to escape the cruisers of every country that already filled the channel. This one voyage, however, if successful, would give him an ample competence for life, and he determined to hazard everything upon it. " It was a dark and stormy night in November when wc made the first light on the west coast of Ireland. Part of our cargo was destined for Ballybunnion ; the remain- der, and most valuable portion, was to be landed in the Bay of Galway. It blew a gale from the south'ard and westward, and the sea ran mountains high, not the short jobble of a land-locked channel, but the heavy roll of the THE smuggler's STORY. 53 great Atlantic — dark and frowning, swelling tc an enor- mous height, and thundering away on tlie iron-bound coast to leeward with a crasli that made our hearto quivei-. The ' Dart ' was a good sea-boat, but the waves swept her from stein to stern, and though nothing but a close- reefed topsail was bent, we went spinning thiough the water at the rate of twelve knots the hour. The hatch- ways were battened down, and every preparation made for a rough night, for as the darkness increased, so did the gale. " The smuggler's fate is a dark and gloomy one. Let the breeze fall, let the blue sky and fleecy clouds lie mir- rored on the glassy deep, and straight a boat is seen sweeping along with sixteen oars, springing with every jeik of the strong arms to his capture. And when the Avhite waves rise like mountains, and the lowering storm descends, sending tons of water across his decks, and wetting his highest rigging with the fleecy drift, he dares not cry for help ; the signal that would speak of his dis- tress would be the knell to toll his ruin. We knew this well. We felt that, come what would, from others there was nothing to be hoped. It was then with agonizing suspense we watched the little craft as she worked in the stormy sea ; we saw that with every tack we were losing. The strong land current that set in towards the shore told upon us at every reach; and when we went about, the dark and beetling cliffs seemed actually toppling over us, and the wild cries of the sea-fowl rang like a dirge in our ears. The small storm-jib we Avere obliged to set sunk us by the head, and at every pitch the little vessel seemed threatening to go down, bow foremost. " Our great endeavour was to round the headland which forms the southern shore of the Shannon's mouth. There is a small sound there, between this point and the rocks they call the ' Blasquets,' and for this we were making with all our might. Thus passed our night, and, when day broke, a cheer of joy burst from our little crew, as we be- held the Blasquets on our weather bow, and saw that the fiound lay straight before us. Scarce had the shout died away, when a man in the rigging cried out — " ' A sail to windward ;' and the instant after added, *a man-o'-vvar brig.' 54 THE ADVENTUKE3 OF ABTHUR o'lEART. "The skipper sprang on the bulwark, and setting liia glass in the shrouds, examined the oliject, -which to the naked eye was barely a haze in the horizon. " She carries eighteen guns,' said he, slowly, ' and is steering our course. I say, O'Kclly, there's no use in running in shore to be pinioned — what's to be done ?' " The thought of the information I was in possession of flashed across me. Life was never so dear before, but I could not speak. I knew the old man's all was on the venture ; I knew, too, if we were attacked, his resolve was to light her to the last spar that floated. " ' Come,' said he, again, ' there's a point more south'ard in the wind ; we might haul her close and make for Gal- way Bay. Two hours Avould land the cargo — at least enough of it ; and if the craft must g-o ' "A heavy squall struck us as he spoke; the vessel reeled over, till she laid her crosstrees in the sea. A snap like the report of a shot was heard, and the topmast came tumbling down upon the deck, the topsail falling to lee- ward and hanging by the bolt-ropes over our gunwale. The little craft immediately fell ofi' from the wind, and plunged deeper than ever in the boiling surf; at the same instant a booming sound swept across the water, and a shot striking the sea near, ricochetted over the bowsprit, and passed on, dipping and bounding towards the shore. " She's one of their newly-built ones,' said the second mate, an Irishman, who chewed his quid of tobacco as ho gazed at her, as coolly as if he was in a dockyard. ' I knew tlie ring of her brass guns.' "A second and a third flash, followed by two reports, came almost together; but this time they fell short of us, and passed away in our wake. " We cut away the fallen rigging, and seeing nothing for it now but to look to our own safety, we resolved to run the vessel up the bay, and try if we could not manage to conceal some portions of the cargo before the man-o'- war could overtake us. The caves aloncr the shore Avere all well known to us ; every one of them had served either as a store or a place of concealment. The wind, however, freshened every minute; the storm-jib was all we could carry, and this, instead of aiding, dipped us h'^^w^-^^v by THE rO.IUGGLEu's STOKY. 55 the head, while the large ship gained moTncntarilj' on us, and now hei' tall masts and white sails lowered cluso in our wake. " ' Shall we stare these puncheons? ' said tlie mate in a whisper to the skipper ; ' sho'il bo aboard of us in na lime.' " The old man made no reply, but his eyes turned from the man-o'-war to shore, and back again, and his mouth quivei'cd slightly. " ' They'd better get the hatches open, and heave over that tobacco,' said the mate, endeavouring to obtain an answer. " ' She's hauled down her signal for us to lie-to,' ob- served the skip]ier, ' and see there, her bow ports are open — here it comes.' " A bright flash burst out as he spoke, and one blended report was heard, as the shots skimmed the sea beside us. " ' Run that long gun aft,' cried the old fellow, as his eyes flashed and his colour mounted. * I'll rake their V'tei'-deck for them, or 'I'm mistaken.' " For the first time the command was not obeyed at once. The men looked at each other in hesitation, and as if not determined what part to take. " ' What do yon stare at there ? ' cried he, in a voice of passion. ' O'Kelly, up with the old bunting, and let them see who they've got to deal with.' "A brown flag, with a Dutch lion in the centre, was run up the signal-halliards, and the next minute floated out bravely from our gaff. " A cheer burst from the man-o'-war's crew, as they beheld the signal of defiance. Its answer was a smashing discharge from, our long swivel that tore along their decks, cutting the standing rigging, and wounding several as it went. The triumph was short-lived for us. Shot after shot poured in from, the brig, which, already to Avindward, swept our entire decks ; while an incessant roll of small- arms showed that our challenge was accepted to the death, " ' Down helm,' said the old man in a whisper to tlio sailor at the wheel — 'down helm;' while already the spitting waves that danced half a mile ahead, betokened a 56 THE ADVENTUFxES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. reef of rocks, over wLicli at low ^Yater a row-boat could not float. " • I know it, I know it well,' was the skipper's reply to the muttered answer of the helmsman. " By this time the brig was slackening sail, and still ills fire was maintained as hotly as ever. The distance between us increased at each moment, and, had we sea- room, it was possible for us yet to escape. " Our long gun was worked without ceasing, and we could see from time to time that a bustle on the deck denoted the destruction it was dealing ; when suddenly a wikl shout burst from one of our men — 'the man-o'-war's apround, — her topsails are aback.' A mad cheer — the frantic cry of rage and desperation — broke from us; when, at the instant, a reeling shock shook us from stem to stern. The little vessel trembled like a living thing; and then, with a crash like thunder, the hatchways sprang from their fastenings, and the white sea leaped up and swept along the deck. One drowning cry, one last mad yell burst forth. " 'Three cheers, my boys ! ' cried the skipper, raising his cap above his head. "Already she was settling in the sea — the death-notes rang out high over the storm ; a wave swept me over- board at the minute, and I saw the old skipper clinging to the bowsprit, while his long grey hair was floating wildly behind : but the swooping sea rolled over and over me. A kind of despairing energy nerved me, and after being above an hour in the water, I was taken up, still swim- ming, by one of the shore-boats, which, as the storm abated, had ventured out to the assistance of the sloop ; and thus was I shipwrecked within a few hundred yards of the spot where fir.st I had ventured on the sea, being the only one saved of all the crew. Of the ' Dart,' not a spar reached shore ; tlie breaking sea tore her to atoms. " The ' Hornet ' scarcely fared better. She landed eight of her crew, badly wounded; one man was killed, and she herself was floated only after months of labour, and never, I believe, went to sea afterwards. " The sympathy which in Ireland is never refused to misfortune, no matter how incurred, stood me in stead now ; for although every effort was made by the autho- THE smuggler's STORY. 57 rlties to discover if finy of the smuggler's crew had reached shore alive, and large rewards were offered, no one would betray me ; and I lay as safely concealed beneath the thatch of an humble cabin, as though the proud walls of a baronial castle afforded me their protection. " From day to day I used to hear of the hot and eager inquiry going forward to trace out, by any means, some- thing of the wrecked vessel ; and, at last, news reached me that a celebrated thief-taker from Dublin had arrived in the neighbourhood to assist in the search. " There was no time to be lost now. Discovery would not only have perilled my own life, but also have involved those of my kind protectors. How to leave the village was, however, the difficulty. Revenue and man-of-war boats abounded on the Shannon since the day of the wreck ; the Ennis road was beset by police, who scruti- nized every traveller that passed on the west coast. The alarm was sounded, and no chance of escape presented itself in that quarter. In this dilemma, fortune, which so often stood my friend, did not desert me. It chanced that a strolling company of actors, who had been performing for some weeks past in Kilrush, were about to set off to Ennis- tymon, where they were to give several representations. Nothing could be easier than to avoid detection in such company ; and I soon managed to be included in the corps, by accepting an engagement as a ' walking gentleman,' at a low salary, and on the next morning found myself seated on the 'van,' among a very motley crew of associates, in whose ways and habits I very soon contrived to familiarize myself, becoming, before we had gone many miles, some- what of a favourite in the party. " I will not weary you with any account of my strolling life. Evei'v one knows something of the difficulties which beset the humble drama ; and ours was of the humblest. Joe Hume himself could not have questioned one solitary item in our budget ; and I defy the veriest quibbler on a grand jury to ' traverse' a spangle on a pair of our thea- trical smallclothes. " Our scenes were two in number : one represented a cottage interior — pots, kettles, a dresser, and a large fire being depicted in smoke-coloured traits thereon — this, 58 THE ADVENTURES OF AFiTHUR o'lEARY. ■vvith two chairs and a table, was convertible into a pai'lour in a private house; and again, b3'-a red-covered arm-chair, and an old banner, became a baronial hall, or the saloon in a palace : the second represented two houses on the flat, with an open country between them, a mill, a mountain, a stream, and a rustic bridge inclusive. This, then, wa3 either a st-J-eet in a town, a wood, a garden, or any other out-of-door place of resort for light comedy people, lovers, passionate fathers, waiting-maids, robbers, or chorus singers. " The chiefs of our corps were INTr. and Mrs. M'Elwain, who, as their names bespoke, came from the north of Ire- land, somewhere near Coleraine I fancy, but cannot pre- tend to accuracy ; but I know it was on the borders of * Darry.' " Who, or what, had ever induced a pair of as common- place, matter-of-fact folk as ever lived, to take to the Thespian art Heaven can tell. Had Mr. Islac been a bailifl^, and madam a greengroceress. Nature would seem to have dealt faii'ly with them ; he being a stout, red-faced, black- bearded tyke, with a thatch of straight black hair, cut in semicircles over his ears, so as to permit character wigs without inconvenience, heavy in step, and plodding in gait. She, a tall, raw-boned woman, of some five-and- forty, with piercing grey eyes, and a shrill, harsh voice, that would have shamed the vei'iest whistle that ever piped through a keyhole. Such were the Macbeth and the Lady Macbeth •^the Romeo and Juliet — the Hamlet and Ophelia of the company ; but their appeai-ance Avas a trifle to the manner and deportment of their style. Imagine Juliet with a tattered Leghorn bonnet, a Scotch shawl, and a pair of brown boots, declaiming somewhat in this guise — ** ' Come, ffantle night, come loving Mack -browed night, Gie me my liomo ! and when he shall dee, Talc' him, and cut him into Icttlc stars, And he will laak' the face of heaven sac fine, That a' the warld will be in lo'e with him.' "With these people I was not destined long to con- tinue. The splendid delusion of success was soon dis- pelled ; and the golden hai-vcsfc I was to reap settled THE smuggler's STORY. 59 down into sometliiug like four shillings a week, out of which came stoppages of so many kinds and shapes, tliat my salary might have been refused at any moment, under the plea that there was no coin of the realm in which to pay it. " One by one every article of my wardrobe went to supply the wants of my stomach ; and I remember well my greatcoat, preserved with the tenacity with which a shipwrecked mariner hoards up his last biscuit, was con- verted into mutton to regale Messrs. lago, Mercutio, and Cassius, with Mesdames Ophelia, Jessica, Desdemona, and Co. It would make the fortune of an artist could ho only have witnessed the preparations for our entertain- ment. " The festival was in honour of, what the manager was pleased by a singular figure of speech to call, my ' benefit ;' the only jirofit accruing to me from the aforesaid benefit being any satisfaction I might feel in seeing my name in capitals, and the pleasure of waiting on the enlightened inhabitants of Kih'ush, to solicit their patronage. " There was something to me of indescribable melan- choly in that morning's perambulation, for, independent of the fact that I was threatened by one with the stocks as a vagabond, another set a policeman to dog me as a suspicious character, and a third mistook me for a rat- catcher; the butcher, with whom I negotiated for the quarter of mutton, came gravely up, and examined the texture of my raiment, calling in a jury of his friends to decide if he wasn't makino' a bad bai'o^ain. " Night came, and I saw myself dressed for Petruchio, the character in which I was to bring down thunders of applause, and fill the treasury to overflowing. What a conflict of feelings was mine — now rating Katharina in good round phrase before the audience — now slipping be- hind the flats to witness the progress of the ' cuisine ' for which I longed with the appetite of starvation, — how the potatoes split their jackets with laughing, as they bubbled up and down in the helmet of Coriolanus, for such 1 grieve to say was the vessel used on the occasion ; the roasting mutton was presided over by ' a gentleman of Padua,' and Christopher Sly was employed in concocting 60 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEART. some ■jmncl), wbicb, true to bis name, be tasted so fre- quently it was impossible to awake bim towards tbe last act. " It was in tbe first scene of the fourtb act, in wliich, with tbe feelings of a famisbed wolf, I was obliged to assist at a mock supper on tbe stage, with wooden beef, parchment fowls, wax pomegranates, and gilt goblets, in wliich only the air prevented a vacuum. Just as I came to the passage — 'Come, Kate, .sit down — I know you have a stomach ; Will you give tliaiiks, sweet Kate, or else sliall I ? What is this— mutton ?' "At that very moment, as I flung the ' pine saddle* from one end of tbe stage to tlie other, a savoury odour reached my nose ; tbe clatter of knives, the crash of plates, the sounds of laughter and merriment, fell upon my ears — the wretches were at supper ! Even tbe ' first servant,' who should have responded to my wratb, bolted from the stage like a shot, leaving bis jolace witbout a moment's warning ; and ' Katharina, tbe sweetest Kate in Cbristen- dom, my dainty Kate,' assured me, with her mouth full, ' tbe meat was well, if I were so contented.' Determined to satisfy myself on the point — regardless of everything but my hunger, I rushed olf the stage, and descended like a vulture in the midst of the supper party. Threats, denun- ciations, entreaties, were of no use, I wouldn't go back; and let tbe house storm and rage, I had helped myself to a slice of the joint, and cared for nobody. It was in vain they told me that tbe revenue officer and bis family were outrageous with passion ; and as to the apothecary in the stage box, he had paid for six tickets in 'senna mixture;* but Heaven knows 1 wasn't a case for such a regimen. " AIJ persuasions failing, Mr. M'Elwain, armed all in proof, rushed at me with a tin scimitar, Avbile Madame, more violent still, capsized tbe helmet and its scalding contents over my person, and nearly flayed me alive. With frantic energy I seized tbe joint, and, fighting my way through the whole company, rushed from the spot. •* 'Romans,' 'countrymen,' and 'lovers,' THE smuggler's STORY. Gl * dukes,* * duennas,' ' demigods,' and * dancers,' with a loud yell, joined in the pursuit. Across the stage we went, amid an uproar that would have done credit to Pande- monium. I was ' nimblest of foot,' however, and having forced my way through an ' impracticable' door, T jumped clean thi-ough the wood, and having tripped up an ' angel ' that was close on my heels, I seized a candle, ' thirty-six to the pound,' and applying it to the edge of the kitchen aforementioned, bounded madly on, leaving the whole concern wrapped in flames. Down the street I went as if bloodhounds were behind me, and never stopped my wild career until I reached a little eminence at the end of the town ; then I drew my breath, and turned one last look upon the ' Theatre Royal.' It was a glorious spectacle to a revengeful spirit. Amid the volume of flame and smoke that rose to heaven (for the entire building was now en- veloped) might be seen the discordant mass of actors and audience mixed up madly together, — Turks, tailors, tum- blers and tide-waiters, grandees and grocers, imps and innkeepers, — there they were, all screaming in concert, while the light material of the ' property-room ' was ascending in myriads of sparks. Castles and forests, baronial halls and robbers' caves, were mounting to rnid- heaven amid the flash of blue-li^jhts and the report of stage combustibles. " You may be sure, that however gratifying to my feel- ings this last scene of the drama was, I did not permit myself much leisure to contemplate it; a very joalpable conviction staring me full in the face that such a spectacle might not exactly redound to my ' benefit.' I, therefore, addressed myself to the road, moralizing as I went some- what in this fashion : I have lost a respectable, but homely suit of apparel, and instead, I have acquired a gi-eeu doublet, leathern hose, jack boots, a slouched hat and a feather. Had I played out my part, by this time I should have been strewing the stage with a mock supper. Now I was consoling my feelings with real mutton, which, how- ever wanting its ordinary accompaniments, was a delicacy of no common order to me. I had not, it is true, the vociferous applause of a delighted audience to aid my digestion as Petruchio. But the pleasant whisper of a 62 'XHE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. good conscience was a more flattering reward to Con O'Kclly. This balanced the account in my favour, and I stepped out Avith that light heart which is so unequivocal an evidence of an innocent and happy disposition. " Towards daybreak I had advanced some miles on the road to Killaloe, when before mo I perceived a drove of horses, coupled together with all manner of strange tackle, halters, and hay-ropes. Two or three country lads were mounted among them, endeavouring, as well as they were able, to keep them quiet, while a thick, short, red-faced fellow, in dirty ' tops' and a faded green frock, le;l the way, and seemed to joreside over the procession. As I drew near, my appearance caused no common commotion; the drivers, fixing their eyes on me, could mind nothing else ; the cattle, participating in the sentiments, started, capered, plunged, and neighed fearfully ; while the leader of the corps, furious a-t the disorder he witnessed, swore like a trooper, as with a tremendous cutting whip he dashed here and there through the crowd, slasliing men and horses with a most praiseworthy impartiality. At last his eyes fell upon me, and for a moment I was full sure my late was sealed, as he gripped his saddle closer, tightened his curb rein, and grasj)ed his powerful whip with redoubled energy. " The instincts of an art are vciy jDOwerful; for, seeing the attitude of the man, and beholding the savage expres- sion of his features, I threw myself into a stage position, slapped down my beaver with one hand, and, drawing my sword with the other, called out in a rich melodramatic howl — ' Come on, Macduff! ' My look, my gesture, my costume, and above all my voice, convinced my antago- nist that I was insane, and as quickly the hai'd unfeeling character of his face relaxed, and an expression of rude pity passed across it. " ' 'Tis Billy IMuldoon, sir, I'm sure,' cried one of tlio boys, as with difficulty he sat the plunging beast u.nder him. " ' No, sir,' shouted another, ' he's bigger nor Billy, but he has ft look of llogan about the eyes.' " ' llould your prate,' cried the master. ' Sure Hogap. was lianged at tho summer assizes.' THE smuggler's STORY. 63 " * I know lie was, sir,' was the answer, given as coolly as though no contradiction arose on tliat score. " ' Who are you ? ' cried the leader ; ' where do you come from ? ' " ' From Ephesus, my lord,' said I, bowing with stage solemnity, and replacing my sword within my scabbard. " 'Where ? ' shouted he, with his hand to his ear. •' ' From Kilrush, most potent,' replied I, approaching near enough to converse without being overheard by the others : while in a few words I explained, that my costume and appearance wei-e only professional symbols, ■which a hasty departure from my friends prevented my changing " ' And where are you going now ? ' was the next query. •' ' May I ask you the same ? ' said I. " ' Me ? Why, I'm for Killaloe — for the fair to-mor- row.' " ' That's exactly my destination,' said I. " ' And how do you mean to go P ' retorted he. ' It's forty miles from here.' " ' I have a notion,' replied I, ' that the dark chestnut there, with the white fetlock, will have the honour of con- veying me.' " A very peculiar grin, which I did not half admire, was the reply to this speech. " ' There's many a one I wouldn't take under five shillings from, for the day,' said I ; ' but the times are bad, and somehow I like the look of you. Is ' it a bar- gam r " * Faix,I'm half inclined to let you try the same horse,' said he. ' It would be teaching you something, any how. Did ye ever hear of the Playboy ? ' " ' To be sure I did. Is that he ?' " He nodded. " ' And you're Dan Moone ? ' said I. " * The same,' cried he, in astonishment. " ' Come, Dan, turn about's fair play. I'll I'ide the horse for you to-morrow — where you like, and over what you like- -and in reward, you'll let me mount one of the others 64 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR 0*LEARY. as far as Killaloc : we'll dine together at the cross roads.' — • Here I slipped the mutton from under the tail of my coat, ' Do you say done ? ' "'Get upon the grey pony,* was the short rejoinder j and the next moment I was seated on the back of as likely a cob as I ever bestrode. " My first care was to make myself master of my com- panion's character, which I did in a very short time, while atfc'cting to disclose my own, watching, with sharp eye^ how each portion of my history told upon him. T. saw- that he appreciated, with a true hoi^se-dealer's ' onetiou,' anything that smacked of trick or stratagem ; in fact, he looked upon all mankind as so many ' screws,' he being the cleverest fellow who could detect their imperfections and unveil their unsoundness. In proportion as I recounted to him the pranks and rogueries of my boyish life, his esteem for me rose higher and higher ; and, before the day was over, I had won so much of his confidence, that he told me the peculiar vice and iniquity of every horse he had, desci'ibing with great satisfaction the class of pur- chasers he had determined to meet with. " ' There is little Paul there,' said he, ' that brown cob, with the cropped ears, there isn't such a trotter in Ireland, but somehow, though you can see his knees from the saddle when he's moving, he'll come slap down with you,, as if he was shot, the moment you touch his flank with the spur, and then there's no getting him up again till you brush his ear with the whip — the least thing does it — he's on his legs in a minute, and not a bit the worse of his performance. "Among all the narratives he told, this made the deepest impression on me. That the animal had been taught the accomplishment, there could be no doubt ; and I began to puzzle my hiain in what way it might best be turned to advantage. It was of great consequence to me to impress my friend at once with a high notion of my powers ; and here waa an admirable occasion for their exercise, if I could only hit on a plan. " The conversation turned on various subjects, and at last, an we ncared Killaloc, my companion began to ponder over the most probable mode in which I could be THE smuggler's STOIIY. 65 of service to liitn on the following day, Ifc w^s at last agi-eed ujDon, that, on reaching town, I should exchange my Petruchio costume for that of a ' squireen,' or half- gentleman ; and repair to the ordinary at the * Green Man,' where nearly all the buyers put up, and all the tallc on sporting matters went forward. This suited me per- fectly ; I was delighted to perform a new part, particularly when the filling-up was left to my own discretion. Before an hour elapsed after our arrival, I saw myself attired in a very imposing suit — blue coat, cords and tops, that would have fitted me for a very high range of character in my late profession. O'Kelly was a name, as Pistol says, ' of good report,' and tbere was no need to change it ; so I took my place at the supper-table, among sorne forty others, comprising a very fair aven.ge of the raffs and raps of the county. The mystei-ies of horse- flesh were, of course, the only subject of conversation ; and before the puncli made its appearance, I astonished the company by the extent of my information and tha acuteness of my remarks. I improvised steeple-chases over impossible countries, invented pedigrees for horses yet unfoaled, and threw out such a fund of anecdote about the ' turf ' and the ' chase,' that I silenced the old-estab- lished authorities of the place, and a general buzz went round the table of, ' Who can he be at all — where did he come from ? ' " As the evening wore apace, my eloquence grew warm — I described my stud and my kennel, told some very curious instances of my hunting experience, and when at last a member of the party, piqued at my monopoly of the con- versation, endeavoured to turn my flank by an allusion to grouse-shooting, I stopped him at once, by asserting with vehemence, that no man deserved the name of sports- man who shot over dogs — a sudden silence pervaded the company, while the last speaker turned towards me with a malicious grin, begged to know how I bagged my game, for that, in his county, they were ignorant enough to follow the old method. " ' With a pony, of course,' said I, finishing my glass. " ' A pony ! ' cried one aftr the other — ' how do you mean ? ' F GG THE ADYENTUEES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. •' * WLj,' resumed I, ' that I have a pony sets everj species of game, as true as the best pointer that ever •' stopped." ' " A hearty roar of laughing followed this declaration, and a less courageous spirit than mine would have feared that all his acquired popularity was in danger. "'You have him with you, I suppose,' said a sly old fellow from the end of the table. " ' Yes,' said I carelessly — ' I brought him over here to take a couple of days' shooting, if there is any to be had.' " ' You would have no objection,' said another, insinu- atingly, ' to let tis look at the beast? ' " ' iSTot the least,' said I. " ' ]\raybe yoii'd take a bet on it,' said a third. " ' I fear I couldn't,' said I ; ' the thing is too sure — the wager would be an unfair one.' " ' Oh, as to that,* cried three or four together, * we'll take our chance, for even if we were to lose, it's well worth paying for.' " The more I expressed my dislike to bet, the more warmly they pressed me ; and I could perceive that a general impression was spreading that my 'ponj was about as apocryphal as many of my previous stories. " ' Ten pounds with you, he doesn't do it,' said an old hard-featured squire. " ' The same from me,* cried another. " ' Two to one in fifties,' shouted a third, until every man at table had prott'ered his wager, and I gravely called for pen, ink, and paper, and booked them, with all due form. " ' 'Now, when is it to come off ? ' was the question of eome half-dozen. *' ' Xow, if you like it — the night seems fine.' " ' No, no,' said they, laughing, ' there's no such huriy is that ; to-morrow we are going to draw Westenra's cover; what do you say if you meet us there by eight o'clock, and we'll decide the bet,' *' ' Agreed,' said I ; and shaking hands with the whole ■Jarty, I folded up my paper, placed it in my pocket, and "Wished them good night. THE smuggler's STORY, 07 *• Sleep was, however, the last thing in my thonghls. Repairing to the little public-house where I left my friend Dan, I asked him if he knew any one well acquainted with the country, and who could tell at a moment where a hare or a covey was to be found. '* ' To be sure,' said ho at once ; * there's a boy below knows every puss and every bird in the country. Tim Daly Avould bring you, dark as the night is, to the very spot where you'd find one.' "In a few minutes I had made Mr. Tim's acquaintance, and arranged with hiui to meet me at the cover on the following morning, a code of signals being esta])lished be- tween us, by which he was to convey to me the information of where a hare was lying, or a covey to be sprung. " A little before eight I was standing beside ' Paul ' on the appointed spot, the centre of an admiring circle, who, whatever their misgivings as to his boasted skill, had only one opinion about his shapes and qualities. " ' Splendid forehand ' — ' what legs ' — ' look at hir quarters ' — ' and so deep in the heart ' — were the excla- mations heard on every side — till a rosy-cheeked fat little fellow, growing impatient at the delay, cried out — " ' Come, Mr. O'Kelly, mount, if you please, and come along.' " I tightened my girth, sprang into the saddle — my only care being to keep my toes in as straight a line as 1 could with my feet. Before we proceeded half a mile, I saw Tim seated on a stile, scratching his head in a very knowing manner ; upon v/hlch I rode out from the party, and looking intently at the furze cover in front, called out — " ' Keep back the dogs there -call them off — hush, not a word.' " The hounds were called in, the party reined back their horses, and all sat silent spectators of my move- ments. " When suddenly I touched * Paul ' in both flanks, down he dropped, like a parish clerk, stiff and motionless as a statue. " ' "What's that? ' cried two or three behind. " ' He's setting,' said I, in a whisper. F 2 68 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. " ' What is it, though ? ' said one. " ' A hare ! ' said I, and at the same instant I shouted to hiy on the dogs, and tipping Paul's ears, forward I went. Out bolted puss, and away we started aci-oss the country, I leading, and taking all before me. " We killed in half an hour, and found ourselves not far from the first cover ; my friend Tim, being as before in advance, making the same signal as at first. The same performance was now repeated. ' Paul ' went through liis part to perfection ; and notwithstanding the losses, a general cheer saluted us as we sprung to our legs, and dashed after the dogs. " Of course I didn't spare him. Everything now de- pended on my sustaining our united fame ; and there was nothing too high or too wide for me that morning. " ' What will you take for him, Mr. O'Kelly ? ' was the question of each man, as he came up to the last field. " ' Would you like any other proof?' said I. ' Is any gentleman dissatisfied ? ' " A general ' No ' was the answer; and again the offers were received from every quarter, while they produced the bank-notes, and settled their bets. It was no part of my game, however, to sell him ; the trick might be dis- covered before I left the countiy, and if so, thei-e wouldn't be a whole bone remaining in my skin. " IMy refusal evidently heightened both wy value and his, and I. sincerely believe there was no story I could tell, on our ride back to town, which would not have met credence that morning; and, indeed, to do myself justice, 1 tried my popularity to its utmost. " 13y way of a short cut back, as the fair was to begin at noon, we took a different route, which led across somo grass fields and a small river. In traversing this I unfor- tunately was in the middle of some miraculous anecdote, and entirely forgot my pony and his requirements ; and as he stopped to drink, without thinking of what I was doing, with the common instinct of a rider, I touched jiim with the spur. Scarcely had the rowel reached his bide, when down he fell, sending me head foremost over his neck into the water. For a second or two the strength of the current carried me along, and it was only after a THE SMUGGLER*S STORY. 6t> devil of a scramble I gained my legs, and reached the bank wet through, and heartily ashamed of myself. " ' Eh, O'Kelly, what the deuce was that?' cried one of the party, as a roar of laugliter broke from amongst them. " ' Ah ! ' said I, mournfully, ' I wasn't quick enough.' " * Quick enough ! ' cried they. ' Egad, I never saw anything like it. Why, man, you were shot off like an arrow.' " ' Leaped off, if you please,' said I, with an air of offended dignity — ' leaped off — didn't you see it?' " ' See what?' " ' The salmon, to be sure. A twelve-pounder, as sure as my name's O'Kelly. He " set" it.' " ' Set a salmon ! ' shouted twenty voices in a breath. * The thing's impossible.' " ' Would you like a bet on it ? ' asked I, drily. '* * 'No, no — damn it ; no more bets ; but surely ' "'Too provoking, after all,' muttered I, ' to have lost so fine a fish, and get such a ducking ;' and with that I mounted my barb, and. waving my hand, wished them a good-bye, and galloped into Killaloe. " This story I have only related because, insignificant as it was, it loecame in a manner the pivot of my then fate in life. The jockey at once made me an offer of partnership in his traffic, displaying before me the numer- ous advantages of such a proposal. I was a disengaged man — my prospects not peculiarly brilliant — the state of my exchequer by no means encouraging the favourite nostrum of a return to cash payments, and so I acceded, and entered at once upon my new profession with all the enthusiasm I was always able to command, no matter what line of life solicited my adoption. " But it's near one o'clock, and so now, Mr. O'Leary, if you've no objection, we'll have a grill and a glass of Madeira, and then, if you can keep awake an hour or so longer, I'll try and finish my adventures." 70 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. CHAPTER VI. THE smuggler's stoky — (continued). *' I LEFi' off at tliafc flattering portion of my history where I became a horse-dealer. In this capacity I travelled over a considerable portion of Ireland, now larking it in the West, jollifying in the South, and occasionally suffering a penance for both enjoyments by a stray trip to Ulster. In these rambles I contrived to make acquaintance with most of the resident gentry, who, by the special free- masonry that attends my calling, scrupled not to treat me on terms of half equality, and even invite me to their houses, a piece of condescension on their part, which they well knew was paid for in more solid advantages. " In a word, Mr. O'Leary, I became a kind of moral amphibia, with powers to sustain life in two distinct and opposite elements ; now brushing my way among frieze- coated farmers, trainers, dealers, sharpers, and stablemen ; now floating on the surface of a politer world, where the topics of conversation took a different range, and were couched in a very different vocabulary. " ]My knowledge of French, and my acquaintance with Parisian life, at least as seen in that class in which I used to mix. added to a kind of natural tact, made me, as far as manners and 'usage 'were concerned, the equal of those with whom I associated, and I managed matters so well, that the circumstance of my being seen in the morning with cords and tops of jockey cut, showing off a ' screw,' or extolling the symmetry of a spavined hackney, never interfered with the pretensions I put forward at night, when, dressed in a suit of accurate black, I turned over the last new opera, or delivered a vf^ry scientific criticism on the new ' ballet ' in London, or the latest fashion im- ported from the Continent. " Were I to trace this part of my cai'eer, I might per- haps umuse you more liy the incidents it contained than • THE smuggler's STORY. 71 by any other portion of ray life. Wotliing indeed is so suggestive of adventure as that anomaly which the French denominate so significantly — ' a false position.' The man ■who — come, come, don't be afraid, though that sounds very like Joseph Surface, I'm not going to moralize — the man, I say, who endeavours to sustain two distinct lines in life is very likely to fail in both, and so I felt it ; for while my advantages all inclined to one side, my taste and predilections leaned to the other ; I could never adopt knavery as a profession — as an amateur I gloried in it. Roguery, without risk, was a poor pettifogging policy that I spurned ; but a practical joke that involved life or limb, a hearty laugh, or a heavy reckoning, was a temptation I never could resist. The more I mixed in society, the greater my intimacy with persons of education and refine nient, the stronger became my repugnance to my actua condition, and the line of life I had adopted. AVhile my position in society was apparently more fixed, I became in reality more nervously anxious for its stability. The fascinations which in the better walks of life are thrown around the man of humble condition, but high aspirings, are strong and sore temptations, while he measures and finds himself not inferior to others to whom the race is open and the course is free, and yet feels in his own heart that there is a bar npon his escutcheon which excludes him from the lists. I began now to experience this in all its poignancy. Among the acquaintances I had formed, one of my most intimate was a young baronet, who had just succeeded to a large estate in the county of Kilkenny. Sir Harvey Blundell was an Anglo-Irishman in more than one sense. From his English father he had inherited certain staid and quiet notions of propriety'', certain con- ventional ideas regarding the observance of etiquette, which are less valued in Ireland ; while from his mother, he succeeded to an appreciation of native fun and drollery, of all the whims and oddities of Irish life, which, strange enovigh, are as well understood by the Anglo-Irishman as by one ' to the manner born.' " I met Sir Harvey at a supper party in College. Some song I had sung of my own composing, or some stoiy of my inventing, I forget which, tickled his fanc}-. He 72 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEART. begged to he introduced to mc, drew his chair over to my side of the table, and ended by giving- me an invitation to his house for the partridge-shooting, Avhich was to begin in a few days. I readily assented ; it was a season iu which I had nothing to do, my friend Dan had gone over to the Highlands to make a purchase of some ponies ; I was rather flush of cash, and consequently iu good spirits. It was arranged that I should drive him down iu my drag, a turn-out with four spanking greys, of whose match and colour, shape and action, I was not a little vain. " "We posted to Carlow, to which place I had sent on my horses, and arrived the same evening at Sir Harvey's house in time for dinner. This was the first acquaintance I had made, independent of my profession. Sir Harvey knew me as Mr. O'Kelly, whom he met at an old friend's chambers in College ; and he introduced me thus to his company, adding to his intimates in a whisper I could overhear — ' devilish fast fellow, up to everything — knows life at home and abroad, and has such a team ! ' Hei-e were requisites enough, in all conscience, to win favour among any set of young country gentlemen, and I soon found myself surrounded by a circle who listened to my opinions on every subject, and recorded my judgment* with the most implicit faith in their wisdom, no matter on what subject I talked, — women, wine, the drama, play, sporting, debts, duns, or duels, — my word was law. " Two circumstances considerably aided me in my pre- sent supremacy. Fii-st, Sir Harvey's friends were all 3'oung m.eu from Oxford, who knew little of the world, and less of that part of it called Ireland ; and secondly, they were all strangers to me, and consequently my liberty of speech was unti-ammelled by any unpleiu;ant reminiscences, of dealing in fairs or auctions. "The establishment was presided over by Sir Harvey's sister, at least nominally so, her presence being a reason for having ladies at his parties ; and although she was- only nineteen, she gave a tone and character to the habits of the house which without her it never could have possessed. Miss Blundell was a very charming person, combining in herself two qualities which, added to beauty, m>%de a very irresistible ensejnble. She ha(? the greatest . Gtiafov . .yh .yi/i/2'U^a^ayey ^,^-t?^!i^ ^cay i^-^z^ym^on^- THE smuggler's STORY. 73 flow of spirits, with a retiring and almost timidly bashful disposition ; courage for anything, and a delicacy that shrunk abashed from all that boi'dcred on display, or bore the slightest semblance of efi'rontery. I shall say no more, than that before I was a week in the house I was over head and ears in love witli her ; my whole thoughts cen- tred in her; my chief endeavour was to show myself in such a light as might win her favour. " Every accomplishment I possessed — every art and power of amusing, I exerted in her service ; and at last perceived that she was not indifierent to me. Then, and then for the first time, came the thought — who was 1, that dared to do this — what ha^d I of station, rank, or wealth to entitle me to sue — perhaps to gain, the affec- tions of one like her ? The duplicity of my conduct started up before me, and I saw for the first time how the mere ardour of pui-suit that led me on and on — how the daring to surmount a difficulty had stirred my heart, at first to win, and then to worship her. The bitterness of my self- reproach at that moment became a punishment, which, even now, I remember with a shudder. It is too true! The great misfortunes of life form more endurable subjects for memory in old age, than the instances, however trivial, where we have acted amiss, and where conscience rebukes us. I have had my share of calamity, one way or other — • my life has been more than once in peril — and in such peril as might well shake the nerve of the boldest : I can think on all these, and do think on them often, without fear or heart-failing ; but never can I face the hours, when my own immediate self-love and vanity brought their own penalty on me, without a sense of self-abasement as vivid as the moment I first experienced it. But I must hasten, over this. I had been now about six weeks in Sir Harvey's house, day after day detei'mining on my depai ture, and invariably yielding, when the time came, to some new request to stay for something or other — now, A day's fishing on the Nore — now, another morning at the partridge — then, there was a boat-race, or a music party, or a picnic — in fiict, each day led on to another, and ] found myself lingering on, unable to tear myself from where, I felt, my remaining was ruin. 74 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. " At last I made up ray mind, and determined, come wliat -would, to take my leave, never to return. I men- tioned to Sir Ilarvey in the morning that some matter of importance required my presence in town, and by a half-promise to spend my Christmas with him, obtained his consent to my departure. "We were returninc' from an eveninof walk — Miss Blundell was leaning on my arm — we were the last of the party, the others having, by some chance or other, gone forward, leaving us to follow alone. For some time neither of us spoke. What were her thoughts I cannot guess; mine were, I acknowledge, entirely fixed upon the hour I was to see her for the last time, while I balanced whether I should speak of my ajDproaching departure, or leave her without even a ' good-bye.' " I did not know at the time so well as I now do, how much of the interest I had excited in her heart depended on the mystery of my life. The stray hints I now and then droj)ped — the stories into which I was occasionally led — the wild scenes, and wilder adventures, in which I bore my part — had done more than stimulate her curiosity concerning me. This, I repeat, I knew not at the time, and the secret of my career weighed like a crime upon my conscience. I hesitated lono- whether I should not dis- close every circumstance of my life, and, by the avowal of my utter unworthiness, repair, as far as might be, the injuiy I had done her. Then came that fatal ''amour propre,^ that involved me originally in the pursuit, and I was silent. We had not been many minutes thus, when a servant came from the house, to inform Miss Blundell that her cousin, Captain Douglas, had ai'rived. As she nodded her head in reply, I perceived the colour mounted to her cheek, an expression of agitation passed over her features. •' ' Who is Captain Douglas ? ' said I, without, however, venturing to look more fully at her. " ' Oh ! a cousin — a second or third cousin, I believe ; but a great friend of Harvey's.' "' And of his sister's, too, if I might presume so far?' " * Quite wrong for once,' said she, with an effort to seem at ease : ' he's not the least a favourite of mine, although ' THE smuggler's STORY. 75 " ' Yoti are of his !' I added, quickly. ' Well, well, I really beg pardon for this boldness of mine.' How I was about to continue, I know not, when her brother's voice, calling her aloud, broke off all further conversation. *' ' Come, Fanny,' said he, ' here's Harry Douglas, just come with all the London gossip— he's been to Windsor, too, and has been dining with the Prince. O'Kelly, you must know Douglas, you are just the men to suit each other. — He's got a heavy book on the Derby, and will be delighted to have a chat with you about the turf.' " As I followed Miss Blundell into the drawing-room, my heart was heavy and depressed. " Few of the misfortunes in life come on us without foreboding. The clouds that usher in the storm, cast their shadows on the earth before they break ; and so it is with cur fate. A gloomy sense of coming evil presages the blow about to fall, and he who would not be stunned by the stroke, must not neglect the warning. " The room was full of people — the ordinary buzz and chit-chat of an evening party was going forward, among which I heard my name bandied about on every side. " ' O'Kelly will arrange this,' cried one — ' leave it all to O'Kelly — he must decide it;' and so on, when suddenly Blundell called out — ■ " ' O'Kelly, come up here,' and then, taking me by the arm, he led me to the end of the room, where, with his back turned towards us, a tall, fashionable-looking man was talking to his sister. *' ' Harry,' cried the host, as he touched his elbow, 'let me introduce a very particular friend of mine — Mr. O'Kelly.' " Captain Douglas wheeled sharply round, and fixing on me a pair of dark eyes, overshadowed with heavy beet- ling brows, looked at me sternly without speaking. A cold thrill ran through me from head to foot as I met his gaze ; the last time we had seen each other was in a square of the Royal Barracks, vv'here he was pui'chasing a remount for his troop, and I was the horse-dealer. " ' Tour friend, Mr. O'Kelly ! ' said he, as he fixed his glass in his cje, and a most insulting curl, half smile, half sneer, played about his mouth. 7G TUE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUH o'lEARY. •' How very absurd you arc, Harry,' said Miss Blundell, endeavouring, by an allusion to something they were speaking of, to relieve the excessive awkwardness of the moment. " ' Yes, to be sure, mjf friend,' chimed in Sir Harvey, 'and a devilish good fellow too, and the best judge of horse- flesh,' '• ' I haven't a doubt of it,' was the dry remark of the Captain ; ' but how did he get here ? ' " ' Sir,' said J, in a voice scarce audible with passion, ' whatever, or whoever I am, by birth at least I am fully your equal.' " ' D n your pedigree,' said he, coolly. " ' Whv, Harry ? ' interrupted Blundell ; * what are you thinking'of? Mr. O'Kellyis ' " ' A jockey — a horse-dealer, if you will, and the best hand at passing off a screw I've met for some time. I say, sir,' continued he, in a louder tone, 'that roan charger hasn't answered his warranty — he stands at Dycer's for you.' " Had a thunderbolt fallen in the midst of us, the con- sternation could not have been greater ; as for me, every- thing around bore a look of mockery and scorn. DerLsion and contempt sat on every feature, and a wild uncertainty of purpose, like coming insanit}", flitted through my brain. What I said, or how I quitted the spot, I am unable to say ; my last remembrance of that accursed moment via.f\ the burst of horrid laughter that filled my eai'S as I rushed out. J almost think that I hear it still, like the yell of the furies ; its very cadence was torture. I ran from the house — 1 crossed the fields without a thought of whither I was going— escape, concealment, my only oI)ject. I sought to hide rnyself for ever from the eyes of those who had looked upon me with such withering contempt; and I should have been thankful to him who would have given me refuge beneath the dank grass of the churchyard. '■ Never did a guilty man fly from the scene of his crime with more precipitate haste than I did from the spot which had witnessed my shame and degradation. At every step I thought of the cruel speeches, the harsh railings, and the bitter irony of all before whom, but one hour ago, I THE smuggler's stoky. 77 stood cliief and pre-eminent; and although T vowed to myself never to meet any of them again, I could not pluck from my heart the innate ?ense of my despicable condition, and how low I must now stand in the estimation of the very lowest I had so late looked down upon. And here let me passingly remark, that while we often hold lightly the praise of those upon whose powers of judgment and reach of information "we place little value, by some strange contrariety we feel most bitterly the censure of these very people whenever any trivial circumstance, any small or petty observance with which they are acquainted, gives them, for the time, the power of an opinion. The mere fact of our contempt for them adds a poignancy to their condemnation, and I question much if we do not bear up better asfainst the censure of the wise than the scoff of the ignorant. " On I went, and on, never even turning my head ; for though I had left all the little wealth I possessed in the world, I would gladly have given it, ten times told, to have blotted out even a particle of the shame that rested on my character. Scarcely had I reached the high road, when I heard the quick tramp of horses and the rattle of wheels behind me ; and, so strong were the instincts of my fear, that I scarcely dared to look back : at length I did so, and beheld the mail-coach coming towards me at a rapid pace. As it neared, I hailed the coachman, and without an inquiry as to where it was going, I sprang up to a place on the roof, thankful that ere long I should leave miles between me and my torturers. " The same evening we arrived in Cork. During the journey I made acquaintance with a sergeant of a light dragoon regiment, who was proceeding in charge of three recruits to the depot at Cove. With the quick eye of his calling, the fellow saw something in my dispirited state that promised success to his wishes ; and he immediately began the thousand-times-told tale of the happiness of a soldier's life. I stopped him short at once, for my mind was already made up, and before the day broke I had enlisted in his Majesty's 12th Light Dragoons^ at that time scrvincr in America. " If I have spared you the recital of many painful pas- 78 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. sages in my life, I shall also pass over this portion of my career, -which, though not marked by any distinct feature of calamity, was, perhaps, the most painful I ever knew. He who thinks that in joining the ranks of an army, his only trials will be the severity of an unaccustomed dis- cipline, and the common hardships of a soldier's life, takes but a very shallow view of what is before him. Coarso and vulgar associates — depraved tastes and brutal habits — the ribald jest of the barrack-room — the comrade spirit of a class, the very lowest and meanest — these are the trials, the almost insupportable trials, of him who has known better days. " As hour by hour he finds himself yielding to the gradual pressure of his fate, and feels his mind assuming, one by one, the prejudices of those about him, his self- esteem falls with his condition, and he sees that the time is not distant when all inequality between him and his fellows shall cease, and every trait of his former self be washed away for ever. "After four months of such endurance as I dare not even now suffer myself to dwell upon, orders arrived at Cove for the recruits of the different regiments at once to proceed to Chatham, whence they were to be forwarded to their respective corps. I believe, in my heart, had this order not come I should have deserted, so unendurable bad my life become. The thought of active service, the prospect of advancement, however remote, cheered my spirits, and, for the first time since I joined, my heart was light on the moi-ning when the old ' Northumberland * transport anchored in the harbour, and the signal for embarking the troops floated from the mast-head. A motley crew we were — frieze-coated, red-coated, and no- coated ; some, ruddy-clieeked farmers' boys, sturdy good- humoured fellows, with the bloom of counti-y life upon their faces ; some, the pale, sickly inhabitants of towns, whose sharpened features and quick penetrating eyes betokened how much their wits had contributed to their maintenance. A few there were, like myself, drawn from a better class, but already scarce distinguishable amid the herd. We were nearly five hundred in number, one featui'O of equality pervading all — none of us had any arms. Some THE smuggler's STORY, 79 instances of revolt and mutiny that had occurred, a short time previous, on board troop-ships, had induced tho Horse Guards to adopt this resolution, and a general order Tvas issued that the recruits should not receive arms before their arrival at Chatham. At last we Aveighed anchor, and with a light easy wind stood out to sea. It was the first time I had been ofl-jat for many a long day, and as I leaned over the bulwark, and heard the light rustle of the Avaves as they broke on the cut-water, and watched the white foam as it rippled past, I thought on the old days of my smuggling life, when I trod the plank of my little craft, with a step as light and a heart as free as ever did the proudest admiral on tlie poop-deck of his three-decker ; and as I remcMiibered what I then had been, and thought of what I no-.v was, a growing melancholy settled upon me, and I sat apart and spoke to none. " On tlie third night after we sailed, the breeze, which had set in at sunset, increased considerably, and a heavy sea rolled in from the westward. Now, although tho w^eather was not sucli as to endanger the safety of a good ship with an able crew, yet was it by no means a matter of indifference in an old rotten craft like the ' JS"orthum- berland,' condemned half a dozen years before, and barely able to make her voyage in light winds and fine weather. Our skipper knew this well, and I could see by the agita- tion of his features, and the altered tones of his voice, how little he liked the freshening gale, and the low moaning sound that swept along the sea, and threatened a storm. The pumps had been at work for some hours, and it was clear that the most we could do was to keep the water from gaining on us. A chance observation of mine had attracted the skipper's attention, and after a few minutes' conversation he saw that I was a seaman not only better informed, but more habituated to danger than himself; he was, therefore, glad to take counsel from mc, and at my suggestion a spare sail was bent, and passed under the ship's bottom, which soon arrested the progress of the leak, and, at the same time, assisted the vessel's sailing. ^Meanwhile the storm was increasing, and it now blew what the sailors call 'great guns.' " "We were staggei'ing along under light canvas, when 80 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. the look-out-ahead announced a licfht on the weather- bow ; it ^Yas evidently coraiug towards us, and scarce half a mile distant ; we had no more than time to hang out a lantern in the tops and put up the helm, when a large ship, whose sides rose several I'eet above our own, swept by us, and so close, that her yard-arms actually touched our ricijing as she yawed over in the sea. A muttered thanksgiving for our escape, for such it was, broke from every lip ; and hardlj'- was it uttered, when again a voice cried out, ' Here she comes to leeward,' and sure enough the dark shadow of the large mass moving at a speed far greater than ours passed under our lee, while a harsh summons was shouted out to know who we were, and ■whither bound. ' The " Northumberland," with troops,' was the ans^ver ; and before the words Avere well out, a banging noise was heard — the ports of the stranger ship were Hung open — a bright flash, like a line of flame, ran her entire length, and a raking broadside was poured into us. The old transport reeled over and trembled like a thing of life, — her shattered sides and torn bulwarks let in the water as she heeled to the shock, and for an instant, as she bent beneath the storm, I thought she was settling, to go down by the head. I had little time, however, for thought ; one wild cheer broke from the attacking ship — its answer was the faint, sad cry, of the wounded and dying on our deck. The next moment the grapples were thrown into us, and the vessel was boarded from stem to stern. The noise of the cannonade, and the voices on deck, brought all our men from below, who came tuni- l^ling up the hatches, believing we had struck. " Then began a scene, such as all I have ever witnessed of carnage and slaughter cannot equal. The Frenchmen, for such they were, rushed down upon us as we stood defenceless, and unarmed : a deadly roll of musketry swept our thick and ti^cmbling masses. The cutlass and the boarding-pike made fearful havoc among us, and an unresisted slaughter tore along our deck, till the heaps of dead and dying made the only barrier for the few remaining. " A chance word in French, and a .'^igu of masonry, rescued me from the fate of my comrades, and my only THE smuggler's STORY. 8J injury was a slight sabre-wound in the fore-arm, which 1 received in warding off a cut intended for my head. The carnage lasted scarce fifteen minutes; but in that time, of all the crew that manned our craft — what between those who leaped overboard in wild despair, and thos3 who fell beneath fire and steel — scarce fifty remained, appalled and trembling, the only ones rescued from this horrible slaughter. "A sudden cry of 'She's sinking!' burst from the strange ship, and in a mioment the Frenchmen clambered np their bulwarks, the grapples were cast off, the darV mass darted onwards on her course, and we drifted awaj to leeward — a moving sepulchre ! "As the clouds flew past, the moon shone out ancj threw a pale, sickly light on the scene of slaughter, wherf the dead and dying lay in indiscriminate heaps together — so frightful a spectacle never did eye rest upon ! The few who, like myself, survived, stood trembling, half stunned by the shock, not daring to assist the wretched men as they writhed in agony before us. I was the first to recover from this stupor, and turning to the others, I made signs to clear the decks of the dead bodies — speak I could not. It was some time before they could be made to understand me : unhappily, not a single sailor had escaped the carnage ; some raw recruits were the only survivors of that dreadful nig-ht. " After a little they rallied so far as to obey me, and I, taking the wheel, assumed the command of the vessel, and endeavoured to steer a course for any port on the west coast of England. " Day broke at length, but a wide waste of waters lay around us. The wind had abated considerably, but still the sea ran high ; and although our foresail and trysail remained bent, as before the attack, we laboured heavily, and made little way through the water. Our decks were quite covered with the dying, whose heart-rending cries, mingled with the wilder shouts of madness, were too hor- rible to bear. But I cannot dwell on such a picture. Of the few who survived, scarcely three were serviceable. Some sat cold and speechless from terror, and seemed insensible to every threat or entreaty ; some sternly refused o 82 THE ADVENTURES OP ARTHUR o'lEARY. to obey my orders, and prowled about between decks in search of spirits ; and one, maddened by tlie horrors he beheld, sprang with a scream into the sea, and never was seen more. " Towards evening we heard a hail, and on looking out saw a pilot-boat making for us, and in a short time we were boarded by a pilot, who, with some of his crew, took charge of the vessel, and before sunset we anchored in Milford. " Immediately on landing, I was sent up to London under a strong escort, to give an account of the whole aflair to the Admiralty. For eight days my examination was continued during several Ik nrs every day, and at last I was dismissed, Avith promotion to the rank of sergeant Tor my conduct in saving the ship, and appointed, to the ■40th Foot, then under orders for Quebec. " Once more at sea and in good spirits, I sailed for Quebec on a fine morning in April, on board the " Aber- crombie." Nothing could be more delightful than the vovage. The weather was clear, with a fair fresh breeze and a smooth sea ; and at the third week we dropped our lead on the green bank of Newfoundland, and brought np again a cod-fish every time we heaved it. Wo now entered the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and began anxiously to look for land. " On the third morning after we made the ' Gulf,' a heavy snow-storm came on, which prevented our seeing a cable's lengtli ahead of us. It was so cold, too, that few remained on deck ; for although the first of May, it was about as severe a day as I remember. Anxious to see something of the country, I remained with the look-out- ahead, straining my eyes to catch a glimpse of the land through the dense snow-drift. All I could distinguish, however, was the dim outline of distant mountains, appar- ently covered with snow ; but, as the day wore on, wo came in sight of the long low island of Anticosti, which, though considerably more than a hundi'ed miles in length, is not in any part more than fifteen feet above the level of tlio water. " Towards evening the land became much clearer to view ; and nov7 I could perceive tall, peaked mountains THE smuggler's STORY. 83 some thousand feet in height, their bases ch\d with stunted pine-trees — their white summits stretching away into the clouds. As I looked, my astonishment was great to find that the vast gulf, which at daybreak was some sixty miles in width, seemed now diminished to about eight or ten, and continued to narrow rapidly as wo pi'oceedcd on our course. " The skipper, who had only made the voyage once before, seemed himself confused, and endeavoured to explain our apparent vicinity to the land as some mere optical delusion — now, attributing it to something in the refraction of the light ; now, the snow. Although he spoke with all the assurance of knowledge, it Avas evident to me that he was by no means satisfied in his own mind of the facts he presented to ours. " As the snow-storm abated, we could see that the mountains which lay on either side of us met each other in front, forming a vast amphitheatre without any exit, '"This surely is not the Gulf of St. Lawrence? ' said I to an old sailor who sat leisurely chewing tobacco with his back to the capstern. "'No, that it ain't,' said he, coolly; 'it's Gaspe Bay, and I shouldn't wish to be in a worse place.' " ' What could have brought us here, then ? — the skipper surely doesn't know where we are ? ' " ' I'll tell you what has brought us here. There's a current from the Gulf Stream sets in to this bay at seven or eight knots the houi-, and brings in all the floating ice along with it There, am I right ? do yon hear that ? ' " As he spoke, a tremendous crash, almost as loud as thunder, was heard at our bow ; and as I rushed to the bulwark and looked over, I beheld vast fragments of ice more than a foot thick, encrusted with frozen snow, flying past us in circling eddies ; while, farther on, the large flakes were mounting, one above the other, clattering and crashing as the waves broke among them. Heaven knows how much farther our mulish Cumberland skipper would have pursued his voyage of discovery, had not the sound- ings proclaimed but live fathom water. Our sails were now backed ; but as the current continued to bear us along, a boat was got out, and an anchor put in readiness G 2 84 THE ADVENTURES OP ARTHUR 0*LEART. to warp us astern ; but, by an unhappy accident, the anchor slipped in lowering over the side, stove in the boat, and of the four poor fellows who were under it, one was carried under the ice, and never seen again. This was a bad beginning, and matters now appeared each moment more threatening. As we still continued to di'ift with the current, a bower-anchor was dropped where we were, and Ihe vessel afterwards swung round head to wind, while the ice came crashing upon the cut-water, and on the sides, with a noise that made all else inaudible. It was found by this time that the water was shoaling, and this gave new cause for fear, for if the ship were to touch the ground, it was clear all chance of saving her was at an end. " After a number of different opinions given and can- vassed, it was determined that four men should be sent ashore in the yawl, to find out some one who knew the pilotage of the bay ; for we could descry several log-huts along the shore, at short distances from each other. With my oflicer's permission, I obtained leave to make one of this party, and I soon found myself tugging away at the bow-oar through a heavy surf. After rowing about an hour, the twilight began to fall, and we could but faintly perceive the outline of the ship, while the log-huts on shore seemed scarcely nearer than at the moment when we quitted the vessel. By this time large fields of ice were about us on every side ; rowing was no longer possi- ble, and we groped along with our boat-hooks, finding a channel where we could avoid the floating masses. " The peril of this proceeding grew with every mo- ment : sometimes our frail boat would be struck with Buch force as threatened to stave in every plank ; some- times she was driven high upon a piece of ice, which took all our efforts to extricate her from, while, as we advanced, no passage presented itself before us, but flake upon flake of frozen matter, among which were fragments of wrecks and branches of trees, mixed up together. The sailors, who had undertaken the enterprise against their will, now resolved they would venture no farther, but make their way back to the ship while it was yet possible. I alono opposed this plan • to return, without at least having THE SJIUGGLER's STORY. do reached the shore, I told them, would he a disgrace — tho safety of all on board was in a manner committed to our efforts ; and I endeavoured by every argument to induce them to proceed. To no purpose did I tell tliem this; of no use was it that I pointed out the lights on shore, which we covdd now see moving from place to place, as though ■we had been perceived, and that some preparations were making for our rescue. I was outvoted, however ; back they would go ; and one of them, as he pushed the boat's head round, jeeringly said to me — "'Why, with such jolly good foot-way, don't you go yourself? you'll have all the honour, you know.' " The taunt stung me to the quick, the more as it called forth a laugh from the rest. I made no answer, but seizing a boat-hook, sprang over the side upon a large mass of ice. The action drove the boat from me. I heard them call to me to comeback ; but, come what would, my mind was made up. I never turned my head, but, with my eyes fixed on the shore-lights, I dashed on, glad to find that with every stroke of the sea the ice was borne on- wards towards the land. At lenoth the sound of tha breakers ahead made me fearful of venturing farther, fot^ as the darkness fell, I had to trust entirely to my hearing as ray guide. I stood then rooted to the spot, and, as the wind whistled past, and the snow-drift was borne in eddy ing currents by me, I di'ove my boat-hook into the ice, and held on firmly by it. Suddenly, through the gloom a bright flash flared out, and then I could see it flitting along, and at last I thou"ht I could mark it directing its course towards the ship, I strained my eyes to their utmost, and in an ecstasy of joy I shouted aloud, as I beheld a canoe manned by Indians, with a pine torch blazing in the prow. The red light of the burning wood lit up their wild figures as they came along, now carrying their light hark over the fields of ice, now launching it into tha boiling surf; and thus, alternately walking and sailings they came at a speed almost inconceivable. They soon heard my shouts, and directed their course to where I stood ; but the excitement of my danger, the dreadful alternations of hope and fear thus suddenly ceasing, so ■stunned me that I could not speak, as they took me in 86 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. their arms and placed me in the bottom of the canoe. Of our coui'se back to shore I remember little. The intense cold, added to tbe stupefaction of my mind, brought on a state resembling sleep ; and even when they lifted me on land, the drowsy lethargy clung to me ; and only when I found myself beside the blaze of a wood-fire, did my faculties begin to revive, and, like a seal under the rays of the sun, did I warm into life once more. The first thing I did when morning broke, was to spring from my resting- place beside the tire, and rush out to look for the ship. The sun was shining brilliantly ; the bay lay calm as a mirror before me, reflecting the tall mountains and the taper pines : but the ship was gone, not a sail appeared in jight ; and now I learned that when the tide began to make, and she was enabled to float, a land-breeze sprang up which carried her gently out to sea, and that she was in all likelihood by that time some thirty miles in her course up the St. Lawrence. For a moment, my joy at the deliverance of my companions was unchecked by any thought of my own desolate condition; the nest minute I remembered myself, and sat down upon a stone, and gazed out upon the wide waters with a sad and sinking heart." .4jg) — i:^- 87 CHAPTER YII. THE smuggler's story — (conchuJccl). "Life had presented too many vicissitudes before me to make much difTerencein niv temperament, whatever came uppermost. Like the gambler, ay ho, if he lose to-day, goes off consoling himself that he may be a winner to-morrow, I had learned never to feel very acutely any misfortune, provided only that I could see some prospect of itj not being permanent ; and how many are there who go through the Avorld in this fashion, getting the credit all the while of being such true philosophers, so uinch elevated above the chances and changes of fortune, and who, after all, only apply to the game of life the same rule of action they practise at the ' roiif/e et noir ' table ! " The worthy folks among whom my lot was now cast, were a tribe of red men, called the Gaspe Indians, who, among other pastimes peculiar to themselves, followed the respectable and ancient trade of Avreekers, in which occu- pation the months of October and November usually sup- plied them with as much as they could do : after that, the ice closed in on the bay, and no vessel could pass up or down the St. Lawrence before the following spring. " It was for some time to me a puzzle how people so completely barbarous as they were, possessed such com- fortable and well-appointed dwellings ; for not only had they log-huts well jointed and carefully put together, but many of the comforts of civilized life were to be seen in the internal decorations. The reason I at length learned from the Jhief, in whose house I dwelt, and with whom I had already succeeded in establishing a sworn friendship. About fifteen years previous, this bay was selected by a party of emigi-ants as the locale of a settlement. They had been wrecked on the island of Anticosti themselves, and made their escape to Gaspe with such remnants of their effects as they could rescue from the wreck. There 88 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. they built houses for themselves, made clearings in the forest, and established a little colony, with rules and regu- lations for its government. Happily for them, they pos- sessed within their numl)cr almost every description of artificer requisite for such an undertaking, their original ■vitention being to found a settlement in Canada ; and thus carpenters, shoemakers, weavers, tailors, millwrights, being all ready to contribute their aid and assistance to each other, the colony made rapid progress, and soon assumed the appearance of a thriving and prosperous place. The forest abounded in wild deer and bears, the bay was not less rich in (ish, while the ground, which they sowed with potatoes and Indian corn, yielded most successful crops ; and as the creek was never visited by sickness, nothing <;ouM surpass the success of their labours. " Thus they lived, till in the fall of the year a detach- ment of the Gaspe Indians, who came down every autumn for the hcrring-fisherjr, discovered that their territory was occupied, and that an invading force were in possession of their hunting grounds. The result could not be doubted : the red men returned home to their friends with the news, and speedily came back again with reinforcements of the whole tribe, and made an attack upon the settlement. The colonists, though not prepared, soon assembled, and being better armed, for their firearms and cutlasses had all been saved, repelled their assailants, and having killed and wounded several of them, drove them back into the forest. The victory, however complete, was the first day of their misfortunes : from that hour they were never safe ; some- times a marauding party of red men would dash into the village at nightfall, and carry away some of the children before their cries could warn their parents. Instead of venturing, as before, into the ' bush ' whenever they pleased, and in small numbers, they were now obliged to go with the greatest circumspection and caution, station- ing scouts here and there, and, above all, leaving a strong garrison to protect the settlement against attack in their absence. Fear and distrust prevailed everywhere, and instead of the peace and ])rosj)erity that attended the first year of their labours, the land now remained but half tilled, the hunting yielded scarcely any benefit, and all their THE smuggler's STORY. 89 efforts were directed to their safety, and tlieir time con- sumed in erecting outworks and forts to protect the village. " While matters were in this state, a large timber- ship, bound for England, struck on a reef of rocks at tlie entrance of the bay. The sea ran high, and a storm of wind from the north-west soon rent her in fragments. The colonists, who knew every portion of the bay well, put out the first moment they could venture to the wreck, not, however, to save the lives and rescue the poor fellows who yet clung to the rigging, but to pillage the ship ere she went to pieces. The expedition succeeded far beyond their most ardent hopes, and a rich harvest of plunder resulted from this venture ; casks of powder, flour, pork, and rum were landed by every tide at their doors, and once more the sounds of merriment and rejoicing were heard in the village. But how difi'erent from before was it ! Then they were happy and contented settlers, living like one united family in brotherly affection and kind good- will ; now, it was but the bond of crime that bound, and the wild madness of intoxication that excited them. Their hunting-gTOunds were no longer cared for ; the fields, with so much labour rescued from the forest, were neglected ; the fishing was abandoned ; and a life given up to the most intemperate abandonment, succeeded to days of peaceful labour and content. Not satisfied with mere defence, they now carried the war into the Indian settle- ments, and cruelties the most frightful ensued in their savage reprisals. " In this dangerous coast a winter never passed with- out several wrecks occurring, and as they now practised every device, by false signals and fires, to lure vessels to their ruin, their infamous traffic succeeded perfectly, and wrecking became a mode of subsistence far more remuner- ative than their former habits of quiet industry. " One long reef of rocks that ran from the most south- erly point of the bay, and called by the Indians ' the Teeth,' was the most fatal spot of the whole coast; for while these rocks stretched for above a mile to sea, and were only covered at high water, a strong land current drew vessels towards them, which, with the wind on shore, it was impossible to resist. 00 THE ADM^NTUEES OF AETHUK o'lEARY. " To this fatal spot each eye was turned at cinyoreak, to sec if some ill-starred vessel had not struck during the night. This was the last point each look was bent on as the darkness was falling ;~and when the wind howled, and the sea ran mountains high, and dashed its white foam over their little huts, then Avas every one astir in the village. Many an anxious gaze pierced through the mist, hoping some white sail might gleam through the storm, or some bending spar show where a perishing crew yet cried for help. The little shore Avould then present a busy scene ; boats were got out, coils of rope and oars strewed on ever}' side, lanteins flitted rapidly from place to place. With what energy and earnestness they moved! how their eyes gleamed Avith excitement, and how their voices rung out, in accents of hoarse command ! Oh ! how horrible to think that the same features of a manly nature — the bold and daring courage that fears not the rushing Avave nor the sweeping storm, the heroic dai'ing that can breast the wild breakers as they splash on the dark rocks, can arise from impulses so opposite ; and that humanit}'' the fairest, and crime the blackest, have but the same machinery to Avork with ! " It was on a dark November night — the heavy sough of a coming storm sent large and sullen. Avaves on shore, where they broke with that Ioav, hollow cadence, that seamen recognize as boding ill. A dense, thick fog ob- scured all oVjjects seaward ; and though many scouts Avere out upon the hills, they could detect nothing: still, as the night gi'cw more and more threatening, the Avreckers felt assured a gale Avas coming, and already their preparation was made for the approaching time. Hour after hor.i* passed b}' ; but though the gale increased, and blew Avith A'iolence on the shore, nothing could be seen, ToAvards midnight, howcA'cr, a scout came in to say that he thought lie could detect at intervals, through the dense mist and Bpray, a gleaming light in the direction of 'the Teeth.* The drift Avas too great to make it clearly perceptible, but still he persisted he had seen something. " A party Avas soon assembled on the beach, their eyes turned towards the fatal rocks, Avhich at low Avater rose some twelve or fifteen feet above the surface. They gazed THE smuggler's STOr.T. 91 lonpf and anxiously-, but nothing could tlioy mate out, till, as thuy were turning away, one cried out, ' Ay, see there — there it is now ! ' and as he spoke, a red forked (lame shot up through the drifting spiay, and threw a lurid flasli upon the dark sea. It died away almost as quickl3', and though seen at intervals again, it seemed ever to wax fainter and fainter. ' She's on fire ! ' cried one. ' No, no; it's a distress signal,' said another. ' One thing is certain,' cneda third, ' the craft that's on " the Teeth " on such a night as this won't get off very readily ; and so, lads, be alive and run out the boats.' " The little colony was soon astir. It was a race of avarice, too ; for, latterly, the settlement had been broken lip by feuds and jealousies into different factions, and each strove to overreach the other. In less than half an hour, eight boats were out, and, breasting the white breakers, headed out to sea. All, save the old and decrepit, the ■women and children, were away ; and even they stood watcliing on the shore, following with their eyes the boats in whic-h they felt most interested. " At last they disappeared in the gloom — not a trace could he seen of them, nor did the wind carry back their voices, over which the raging storm was now howling. A few still remained, sti'aining their eye-balls towards the spot where the light was seen — the others had returned towards the village — when all of a sudden a frightful yell, a long-sustained and terrible cry arose from the huts, and the same instant a blaze burst forth, and rose into a red column towards the sky. The Indians were upon them. The wai'-shout — that dreadful sound they knew too well — resounded on every side. Then began a massacre which nothing in description can convey. The dreadful rage of the vengeful savage — long pent up, long provoked — had now its time for vengeance. The tomahawk and the scalping-knife ran red with blood, as women and infants rushed madly hither and thither in flight. Old men lay ■svcltering in their gore beside their daughters and grand- children ; while the wild red men, unsated with slaughter, tore the mangled corpses as they lay, and bathed them- selves in blood. But not there did' it end. The flame that gleamed frona 'the Teeth' rocks was i^.iit an Indian 92 THE ADYEXTUEES OF AKTIIUE O LEARY. device to dra^Y the wreckers out to sea. A pine-wood fire had been lighted on the tallest clift' at low water, to at- tract their attention, bj- some savages in canoes, and left to burn away slowly during the night. " Deceived, and baffled, the wreckers made towards shore, to which already their eyes were turned in terror, for the red blaze of the burning huts was seen, miles off, in the bay. Scarcely had the first boat neared the shore, when a volley of fire-arms poui-ed in upon her, while the war-ci"y that rose above it told them their hour was come. The Indians were several hundreds in number, ai-med to the teeth ; the others few, and without a single weapon. Contest, it was none. The slaughter scarce lasted many minutes, for ere the flame from the distant rock subsided, the last white man lay a corpse on the bloody strand. Such was the terrible retribution that followed on ci"ime, and, at the very moment, too, when their cruel hearts were bent on its perpetration. " This talc, which was told me in a broken jargon, be- tween Canadian-French and English,- concluded with words which were not to me, at the time, the least shock- ing part of the story, as the narrator, with glistening eyes, and in a voice whose guttural tones seemed almost too thick for utterance, said, ' It was I that planned it! ' " Tou will ask me, by what chance did I escape with life among such a tribe. An accident — the merest accident — saved me. "When a smuggler, as I have already told you I was, I once, when becalmed in the Bay of Biscay, got one of the sailors to tatoo my arm with gunpowder, a very common practice at sea. The operator had been in the North American trade, and had passed ten years as a prisoner among the Indians, and l^rought away with him innumeraVjle recollections of their habits and customs. Among others, their strange idols had made a great im- pression on his mind ; and, as I gave him a discretionary power as to the frescoes he was to adorn me with, he painted a most American-looking savage Avith two faces on his head, his body all stuck over with arrows and spear- points, while he, apparently unmoved by such visitors, was skipping about, in something that might be a war- dance. THE smuggler's STORY. 93 "This, with all its appropriate colours — for, as the heraldry folk say, ' It was proper' — was-a very conspicuous object on ray arm, and no sooner seen by the chief, than he immediately knelt down beside me, dressed my wounds, and tended me ; while the rest of the tribe, recognizing me as oue whose existence was charmed, showed me every manner of respect, and even devotion. " Indeed I soon felt my popularity to be my greatest difficulty; for whatever great event was going forward among the tribe, it became the etiquette to consult me on it, as a species of soothsayer, and never was a prophet more sorely tested. Sometimes it was a question of the whale-fishery — whether ' bottle-noses,' or ' sulphur-bot- toms,' were coming up the bay, and whether, in the then season, it was safe, or not, to strike the ' calf whales' first. Now it was a disputed point as to the condition of bears ; or, worse than either, a little marauding party would be undertaken into a neighbour's premises, where T was expected to perform a very leading part, which, not having the same strong convictions of my invulnerable nature as my worthy associates, I undertook with as few feelings of satisfaction as you may imagine. But these were not all ; ofiers of marriage from many noble families pressed me on every side ; and though polygamy to any extent was per- missible, I never could persuade myself to make my for- tune in this manner. The ladies, too, I ani bound to say, were not so seductive as to endanger my principles. Flat- tened heads, bent-down noses, and lip-stones, are very strong antidotes to the tender passion. And I was obliged to declare, that I was compelled by a vow not to marry for three moons. I dared not venture on a longer period of amnesty, lest I should excite suspicion of any insult to them on a point where their vengeance never forgives ; and I hoped, ere that time elapsed, that I should be able to make my escape — though how, or when, or where to, were points I could not possibly guess at. " Before the half of my probation had expired, we were visited by an old Indian of a distant tribe — a strange old fellow he was, clothed in goats' skins, and wearing strong leather boots and rackets (snow shoes), a felt hat, and a kind of leather sack strapped on his back, and secured by 94 THE ADVENTURES OP AETHUR o'lEARY. a lock. This vSingular-looking fellow was ' the post.' He travelled once a year from a small settlement near Miri- michi, to Quebec, and back, carrying the letters to and from these places, a distance of something like seven hundred miles, which he accomplished entirely on foot, great part of it through dense forests and over wild uninhabited prairies, passing through the hunting-grounds of several hostile tribes, fording rivers and climbing mountains, and all for the moderate 2)ayment of ten pounds a year, half of which he spent in rum before he left Quebec, and while waiting for the return mail ; and, strangest of all, though for forty years he had continued to perform this journey, not only no accident had ever occurred to the letters, but he himself was never kuowa to be behind his appointed time at his destination. "'Tahata,' for such was his name, was, however, a character of great interest, even to the barbarous tribes through whose territories he passed. He was a species of savage newspaper, i^ecounting various details respecting the hunting and iishing seasons — the price of skins f.t Quebec or Montreal — what was the peltry most in request, and how it would bring its best price. Cautiously abstain- ing from the local politics of these small states, his infor- mation onl}'- bore on such topics as are genei'ally useful and interesting, and never for a moment partook of any partisan character ; besides, he had ever some petty com- mission or other from the squaws to discharge at Quebec. There was an amber bead, or a tin ornament, a bit of red ribbon, or a glass button, or some such valuable, every- where he went ; and his coming was an event a 3 much longed and looked for as any other that marked their monotonous existence. " He rested for a few da3^s at our village, when I learned these few particulars of his life, and at once resolved, come what might, to make my escape with liini, and, if possible, reach Quebec. An opportunity, fortunately, soon oii'ered for my doing so with facility. The day of the courier's departure was fixed for a great fishing excursion, on which the tribe were to be absent for several days. Affecliiig illness, I remained on shore, and never stirred fi-uin llic wigwam till the last canoe had disappeared froiu THE smuggler's STORY. 95 pMit ; tlien I slowly sauntered out, and telling tlie squaws that I would stroll about, for an Lour or so, to breathe the air, I followed tbelrack which was pointed out to me by the courier who had departed early on the same morning. Before sunset I came up with my friend, and with a heart overflowing with delight, sat down to partake of the little supper he had provided for our first day's joux'ney ; after that, each day was to take cai'e of itself. •' Then began a series of adventures, to which all I have hitherto told you are as nothing. It was the wild life of the prairies in companionship with one who felt as much at home in the recesses of a pine forest as ever I did in the snug corner of mine inn. Now, it was a night spent under the starry sky, beside some clear river's bank, where the fish lay motionless beneath the red glare of our watch- fire ; now, we bivouacked in a gloomy forest, planting stockades around to keep off the wild beasts; then, we would chance upon some small Indian settlement, where we Avere regaled with hospitality, and spent half the night listening to the low chant of a red man's song, as he deplored the downfall of his nation, and the loss of their hunting-grounds. Through all, my guide pi-eserved the steady equability of one who was tra-velling a well-worn patli — some notched tree, some small stone heap, some fissured rock, being his guide through wastes, where, it seemed to me, no human foot had ever trod. He lightened the road with many a song and many a story, tlie latter always displaying some curious trait of his people, whose high sense of truth and uriswerving fidelity to their word, once pledged, apjicared to be an invariable feature in every narrative ; and though he could well account for the feeling that makes a man more attached to his own nation, he more than once half expressed his surprise, how, having lived among the simple-minded childien of the forest, I could ever return to the haunts of the plotting and design- ing white men. " This story of mine," continued Mi*. O'Kelly, " has somehow spun itself out far more than I intended. My desire was, to show you briefly in what strange and dis- similar situations I have been thrown in life — how I have lived among every rank and class, at home and abroad, in 96 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. comparative affluence — in narrow poverty ; how I have looked on at the world, in all its gala dress of wealth, and rank, and beauty — of power, of station, and command of intellect; and how I have seen it poor, and mean, and naked — the companion of gloomy solitudes, and the denizen of pathless forests ; and yet found the same Imraan pas- sions, the same love and hate, the same jealousy and fear, courage and daring — the same desire for power, and the same wish to govern in the red Indian of the prairie, as in the star-bedecked noble of Europe. The proudest lank of civilized life has no higher boast than in the practice of such virtues as I have seen rife among the wild dwellers in the dark forest. Long habit of moving thus among my fellow-men has worn off much of that conventional rever- ence for class which forms the standing point of all our education at home. The tarred and weather-beaten sailor, if he be but a pleasant fellow, and has seen life, is to me as agreeable a companion as the greatest admiral that ever trod a quarter-deck. My delight has been thus, for many a year back, to ramble through the world, and look on its game, like one who sits before the curtain, and has no concern with the actors, save in so far as they amuse liim. " There is no cynicism in this. No one enjoys life more than I do. Music is a passion with me — in paint- ing, I take the greatest delight, and beauty has still her charm for me. Society never was a greater pleasure. Scenery can give me a sense of happiness which none but solitary men ever feel — yet, it is less as one identified with these, than as a mere spectator. All this is selfish and egotistical, you will say — and so it is. But then, think what chance has one like me of any other pleasure ? To liow many annoyances should I expose myself, if I adopted a different career. Think of the thousand in- quiries, of — who is he ? what is his family ? where did he come from ? what are his m.eans ? and all such queries, which would beset me, were I the respectable denizen of one of your cities. Without some position, some rank, home settled phice in society, you give a man nothing — ho can neither have friend nor home. Now, I am a wanderer — my choice of life happily toc'k an humble turn. 1 have THE smuggler's STORY. 97 placed myself in a good situation for seeing' tlie game — and I am not too fastidious if I get somewhat crushed by the company about mo : but now, to finish this long story, for I see the day is breaking, and I must leave Antwerp by ten o'clock. " At last, then, we readied Quebec, It was on a bright, clear, frosty day, in December, when all the world was astir — sledges flying here and there — men slipping along in rackets — women wrapped up in furs, sitting snugly in chairs, and pushed along the ice some ten or twelve miles the hour — all gay, all lively, and all merry-looking — while I and my Indian friend bustled our way through the ci'owd towards the post-office. He was a well-known character, and many a friendly nod and knowing shake of the head welcomed him as ho passed along. I, however, was an object of no common astonishment, even in a town where every variety of costume, from full dress to almost nakedness, was to be met with daily. 'Still, something remained as a novelty, and it would seem I had hit on it. Imagine, then, an old and ill-used foraging cap, drawn down over a red night cap, from beneath which my hair descended straight, somewhere about a foot in length — beard and moustaches to match — a red uniform coat, patched with brown seal-skin, and sui-mounted by a kind of blanket of buffalo hide — a pair of wampum shorts, decorated with tin and copper, after the manner of a marqueterie table — gray stockings, gartered with fish skin — and mocassins made after the fashion of high-lows, an invention of my own, which I trust are still known as * O'Kellys' among my friends the red men. " That I was not an Indian, was sufiiciently apparent — if by nothing else, the gingerly delicacy witli which I trod the pavement after a promenade of seven hundred miles, would have shown it ; and yet there was an evident re« luctance on all sides to acknowledge me as one of them- selves. The crowd that followed our steps had by this time attracted the attention of some officers, who stopped to see what was going forward, when I recognized the major of my own regiment among the number. I saw, however, that he did not remember me, and hesitated with myself whether I should return to my old servitude H 98 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. The thought that no mode of subsistence was open to mo — that I was not exactly prepossessing enough to make my way in the world by artiiicial advantages — decided the question, and I accosted him at once. " I will not stop to paint the astonishment of the officer, nor shall I dwell on the few events which followed the re- cognition — suflBce it to say, that, the same evening I re- ceived my appointment, not as a sergeant, but as regimental interpreter between our people and the Indians, with whom we were then in alliance against the Yankees. The regiment soon left Quebec for Trois Rivieres, where my ambassadorial functions were immediately called into play — not, I am bound to confess, under such weight}- and onerous responsibilities as I had been led to suspect would ensue between two powerful nations — but on matters of less moment, and fully as much difficulty, viz. the barter of old regimental coats and caps for bows and arrows ; the exchange of I'um and gunpowder for mocassins and wam- pum ornaments — in a word, the regulation of an Anglo- Indian tariff, Avhich accurately defined the value of ever^^- thing, from a black fox-skin to a pair of old gaiters — from an Indian tomahawk to a tooth-pick. " In addition to these fiscal regulations, I drew up a crimi- nal code — which, in simplicity at least, might vie with any known system of legislation — by which it was clearly laid down, tliat any unknown quantity of Indians were only equal to the slightest inconvenience in cuiTcd or discomfort endured by an English officer: that the condescension of any intercourse with them was a circumstance of the greatest possible value — and its withdrawal the highest punish- ment. A few other axioms of the like nature greatly facilitated all bargains, and promoted universal good feel- ing. Occasionally, a knotty point Avould arise, which Komewhat puzzled me to determine. Now and then, some Indian prejudice, some superstition of the tribe, would op- pose a barrier to the summary process of my cheap justice ; but then, a little adroitness and dexterity could soon re- concile matters — and as I had no fear that my decisions were to be assumed as precedents, and still less dread of their being rescinded by a higher court, I cut boldly, and generally severed the difficulty at a blow. THE smuggler's STORY. 99 *• ;My life was now a pleasant one cnougli — for our officers treated me on terms of familiarity, which gra- dually grew into intimacy, as our quarters were in remote Btations, and as they perceived that I possessed a certain amount of education — which, it is no flattery to say, ex. ceeded their own. My old qualities of convivialism, also, gave me considerable aid ; and as I had neitlier forgotten to compose a song, nor sing it aftervvaixls, I was rather a piece of good fortune in this solitary and monotonous state of life. Etiquette prevented my being asked to the mess, but, most genei'ously, nothing interfered with their coming over to my wigwam almost every evening, and taking share of a bowl of sangaree and a pipe — kindnesses I did my uttermost to repay, by putting in reqaisition all the amusing talents I possessed : and certainly, nev^er did a man endeavour more for great success in life, nor give himself greater toil, than did I, to make time pass over pleasantly to some half-dozen silly subalterns, a bloated captain or two, and a plethoric old snuff-taking mtijor, that dreamed of nothing but rappee, punch, and promotion. Still, like all men in an ambiguous, or a false position, I felt flattered by the companionship of people •whom, in my heart, I thoroughly despised and looked down upon ; and felt myself honoured by the society of the most thick-headed set of noodles ever a man sat down ■with — Ay ! and laughed at their flat witticisms, and their old stale jokes — and often tiirew out hints for Ion mots, which, if they caught, I immediately applauded, and went about, saying, did you hear ' Jones's last ? ' — ' do you know what the major said this morning ? ' bless my heart ! what a time it was. Truth will out — the old tuft-hunting leaven was sti'ong in me, even yet — hardship and roughing had not effaced it from my disposition — one more lesson was wanting, and I got it. " AmoDg my visitors was an old captain of the rough school of military habit, with all the dry jokes of the re- cruiting service, and all the coarseness which a life spent most part in remote stations and small detachments, is sure to impart. This old fellow. Mat Hubbart, a well- known name in the Glengarries, had the greatest partiality for practical iokcs, and could calculate to a nicety the pr> y. 2 100 THE ADVENTURES OF AKTHUR o'LEART. cise amount of a liberty •wliicli any man's rank in the vicrvice permitted, -without the risk of being called to account ; and the same scale of equivalents by which he established the momenclature for female rank in the army, was regarded by him as the test for those licenses he per- mitted himself to take witli any man beneath him ; and as he spoke of the colonel's 'lady,' the major's 'wife,' the captain's ' woman,' the lieutenant's ' thing,' so did he graduate his conduct to the husbands, never transgressing for a moment on the grade by any undue familiarity or any unwonted freedom. With me, of course, his powers were discretionary, or rather, had no discretion whatever. I was a kind of military outlaw that any man might shoot at, and certainly he spared not his powder in my behalf. " Among the few reliques of my Indian life, was a bear- skin cap and hood, which I prized highly. It was a present from my old guide — his parting gift — when I put into his hands the last few pieces of silver I possessed in the world. This was then to me a thing which, as I had met with not many kindnesses in the world, I valued at something far beyond its mere price, and would rather have parted witli any, or everything I possessed, than lose it. Well, one day on my return from a fishing excursion, as I was passing the door of the mess-room, what should I see but a poor idiot that frequented the barrack, dressed in my bear.-skin. " ' Halloa ' Hokey,' said I, ' where did you get that ? ' scarce able to restrain my temper. " ' The captain gave it me,' said the fellow, touching his cap, with a grateful look towards the mess-room windqw, where I saw Captain Hubbart standing, convulsed with laughter. " ' Impossible ! ' said I, yet half fearing the truth of his a.s.scrtion. ' The captain couldn't give away what's mine, ttnd not his.' " ' Yes, but he did though,' said the fool, ' and told me, too, he'd make me the "talk man" with the Indians, if you didn't behave better in future.' " 1 felt my blood boil up as I heard these words. I saw at oucc that the joke was intended to insult and offend THE smuggler's STORY. 101 me ; and probably meant as a lesson for my presumption a few evenings before, since I had the folly, in a moment of open-hearted gaiety, to speak of my family, and perhaps to boast of my having betn;?-, geaiile, to impart the charm of novelty. Now for all this, my reader, fair or false as she or he may be, must not suspect that anything bordering on love was concerned in the present case. To begin — the countess was married, and I was brought up at an excelL-nt school at Bangor, where the catechism, Welsli and English, was Hogged into me until every com- mandment had a separate welt of its own on my back. No ; I had taken the royal road to happiness ; I was delighted without stopping to know why, and enjoyed myself witliout ever thinking to inquire wherefore. New sources of information and knowledge were opened to me by those who possessed vast stores of acquirement, and I h-arned how the conversation of gifted and accomplished persons may be made a great agent in training and forming the mind, if not to the higher walks of know- ledge, at least to those paths in which the greater part of life is spent, and where it imports each to make the road agreeable to his fellows. I have said to you I was not in love — how could I be, under the circumstances ? — but still I own that the regulir verbs of the Polish grammar had been but dry work, if it had not been for certain irreguhir glances at mj' pretty mistress ; nor could I ever have seen my way tlirough the difficulties of the declen- sions if the light of her eyes had not lit up the page, and her taper finger pointed out the place. And thus two months flew past, during which she never even alluded most distantly to our conversation in the garden at Boitsfort, nor did 1 learn any tnie particular more of my friends tlian on the fii'st day of our meeting. A DILEMMA. 151 Mcnnwhile, all icleao of travellinfr had completely left me; and altliough I bad now abundant resources in my banker's hands for all the purposes of the road, I never once dreamed of leaving a place where I felt so thoroughly happy. kSucb, then, was our life, when I began to remark a sHo'ht chano-e in the count's manner — an appearance of gloom and pre-ocfupatiou which seemed to nicrease each day, and against which he strove, but in vain, to combat. It was clear something had gone wrong with him, but I did not dare to allude to, much less ask him on the sub- ject. At last, one evening, just as I was preparing for bed, he entered my dressing-room, and closing the door cautiously behind him, sat down. I saw that he was dressed as if for the road, and looking paler and more agitated than usual. " O'Leary," said he, in a tremulous voice, " I am come to place in your hands the highest trust a man can repose in anotlier — am I certain of your friendship ? " I shook his hand in silence, and he went on. " I must leave Brussels to-night secretly. A political affair, in which the peace of Europe is involved, has just come to my knowledge ; the government here will do their best to detain me ; orders are already given to delay me at the frontier — perhaps send me back to the capital ; in conse- quence, I must cross the boundary on horse back, and reach Aix-la-Chapelle by to-morrow evening. Of course, the countess cannot accompany me." He paused for a second. " You must be her protector. A hundred rumours will be afloat the moment they find I have escaped, and as many reasons for my departure announced in the papers. However, I'm content if they amuse the public and occupy the police, and meanwhile I shall obtain time to pass through Prussia unmolested. Before I reach St. Peters- burgh, the countess will receive letters from me, and know where to proceed to ; and I count on your friendship to remain here until that time — a fortnight, three weeks at farthest. If money is any object to you " " Not in the least; I have far more than I want." " Well, then, may I conclude that you consent? " " Of course, you may," said I, overpowered by a rush 152 TUE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. of sensations I must leave to my reader to feel, if it has ever heen his li>t to luive been placed in such circum- stances, or to imagine for me if he has not. " The countess is, of course, aware " "Of evervthing, " interru[)tL'(l he, "and bears it ali admirably. Much, however, is attributable to the arrange- ment with you, which I promised her was completed, even before I asked your consent — such was my confi- dence in your friendship." " You have not deceived yourself, " was my reply, while I puzzled my brain to think how I could repay such proofs of his trust. " Is tlierc aiiytliing, then, more, " said 1 — "can you think of noihing in which I may be of service ? " '• Nothing, dear friend, nothing," said he. " Probably we shall meet at St. Petersburgh." " Ye.s, yes," said I; " that is my firm intention." "Thai's all I could wish for," rejoined he. "The grand-duku will be delighted to acknowledge the assist- ance your friendship has rendered us, and Potoski's house will be your own." So saying, he embraced me most affectionately, and dc])iirted, while I sat to muse over the Bingulai'ity of my position, and wonder if any other man was ever similarly situated. When 1 proceeded to pay my respects to the countess the next morning, I prepared myself to witness a state of great sorrow anpe we may novel meet again : yet let me give you a counsel ere we part. There is but one coat men can wear with impunity, when they carry a malevolent and a craven spirit ; you can be "Monsieur I'Abbe, the dinner is on the table," said a servant, entering at this moment of the story. " Ma foi, and so it is," said he, looking gaily at his watch, as he rose from his chair. "But, mademoiselle," said I, " what became of her ?" " Ah, Marguerite ; she was married to Van Halrfdt in less than three months; the cuirassier fortunately re- covered from his wounds ; the duel was shown to be a thing forced by the sti-ess of consequences. A.s fur Van Ilalsdt, the King foi^gave him, and he is now ambassador at Naples." " And the other, Norvins ? though I scarcely feel any interest in him." " I'm sorry for it," said he, laughing ; " but won't vou move forward P" With that he made me a polite bow to precede him towai'ds the dinner room, and followed me with the jaunty step and the light gesture of an easy and contented nature. I need scarcely say that I did not sit next the abbe that day at dinner; on the contrary, I selected the most stupid-looking old man I could find for my neighbour, hugging myself in the thought, that where there is little agreeability, Nature may kindly have given in recompense some traits of honesty, and some vestiges of honour. Indeed, such a disgust did. I feel for the amusing features of the pleasantest part of the company — and so inextri- cably did I connect repartee with rascality, that 1 trembled at every good thing I heard, and stole away early to bed, resolving never to take sudden fancies to agreeable people as Ion or as I lived — an oath which a long residence in a certain country, that shall be nameless, happily permits me to keep, with little temptation to transgress. The next moiuing was indeed a brilliant one — the earth refreshed by rain — the verdure more brilliant — the D-.ountain streams grown fuller : all the landscape seemcJ p 2 212 TEE 4.DVENTCRES OF ARTHUft o'lEARY. to sV.ine forth in its gladdest features. I was up and st.rring soon after sunrise; and ^vitll all my prejudices agtiinst such a means of " longtlicning one's days," sat at my window, actually entranced with the beauty of the scene. Beyond the river there rose a heath-clad mountain, along which mi;-ty masses of vapour swept hurriedly, dis- closing as they passed some tiny patch of cultivation, struggling for life amid granite rocks and abrupt preci- pices. As the sun grew stronger, the grey tints became brown, and the brown grew purple, while certain dark lines that tracked their way from summit to base, began to shine like silver, and showed the course of many a mountain torrent, tumbling and splashing towards that little lake that lay calm as a mirror below. Immediately beneath ray window was the garden of the chateau : a succession of terraces descending to the very river — the quaint yew hedges carved into many a strange device — the balustrades lialf hidden by flowering shrubs and creepers — the marble statues peeping out here and there, trim and orderly as they looked, were a pleasant feature of the picture, and heightened the effect of the desolate grandeur of the distant view. The very swans that sailed about on the oval pond told of habitation and life, just as the broad expanded wing that soared above the moun- tain peak spoke of the wild region where the eagle was king. My musings were suddenly brought to a close by a voice on the terrace beneath. It was that of a man who was evidently, from his pace, enjoying his morning's pro- menade under the piazza of the chateau, while he hummed a tune to pass away the time : — " Why, soldiers, why Should we be melancholy, boys ; AVhy, soldiers, why ? Whose business Holloa, there, Fran9oi8, ain't they stirring yet ? why, it's past six o'clock." The person addressed was a serving man, who, in the formidable attire of an English groom — in which he was about as much at home as a coronation champion feels iu THE abce's story. 213 plate armour — was crossing the garden towards tho Btables. "No, sir; the count won't start before eight." " And when do we breakfast ? " *' At seven, sir." ** The devil — another hour — "Why, soldiers, why, Should we be I say, Francois, what horse do they mean for Made- moiselle Laura to-day r " " The mare she rode on Wednesday, sir. Mademoiselle liked her veiy much." "And what have they ordered for the stranger that came the night before last ? The gentleman who was robbed " " I know, I know, sir ; the roan, with the cut on her knee." " Why, she's a mad one — she's a run-away." " So she is, sir; but then monsieur is an Englishman, and the count says he'll soon tame the roan filly." "Why, soldiers, w'" y," hummed the old colonel, for it was Muddleton himself ; and the groom pursued bis way without further questioning. Whereupon two thoughts took possession of my brain : one of which was, what peculiar organization it is which makes certain old people who have nothing to do early risers ; the otlur, what offence had I committed to induce the master of the chateau to plot my sudden death. The former has been a puzzle to me all my life. What a blessing should sleep be to that class of beings who do nothing when awake ; how they should covet those drowsy hours that give, as it were, a sanction to indo- lence ; with what anxiety they ought to await the fall of day, as announcing the period when they become the equals of their fellow-men ; and with what terror they should look forward to the time wdicn the busy world is up and stirring, and their incapacity and slothfulness only become more glai'ing from contrast. Would not any one say that such people would naturally cultivate sleep as their comforter? Should they not hug their pillow as the 214 THE ADVENTURES OF APtTHUR o'lEART. friend of their bosom ? On the contrai-y, tliese are in- variably your early risers : every house where I have ever been on a visit, has had at least one of these troubled and troublesome spirits ; the torment of Boots — the horror of housemaids. Their chronic cough forms a duet with the inharmonious crowing of the young cock, who, for lack of better knowledge, proclaims day a full hour before his time. Their creaking shoes are the accompaniment to the scrub- bing of brass fenders and the twigging of carpets, the jarring sounds of opening shutters, and the cranking dis- cord of a hall-door chain ; their heavy step sounds like a nightmare's tread, through the whole sleeping house; and what is the object of all this? What new fact have they acquired? what difficult question have they solved? whom have they made happier, or wiser, or better? Not Betty, the cook, certainly, whose morning levee of beggars they have most unceremoniously scattered and scared ; not ^larv, the housemaid, who, unaccustomed to be caught en deshabille, is cross the whole day after, though he was "only an elderly gentleman, and wore spectacles:" not Richard, who cleaned their shoes by candle-light : nor the venerable butler, who, from shame sake, is up and dressed, Imt who, still asleep, stands with his corkscrew in his liand, under the vague impression that it is a late supper pai'ty. These people, too, have always a consequential, self- satisfied look about them ; they seem to say, as though they knew a "thing or two" others had no wot of; as though the day, more confidential when few were by, told them some capital secrets the sleepers never heard of; and they made this pestilential habit a reason for eating the l)reakfast of a Cossack, as if the consumption of victuals was a cardinal virtue. Civilized differs from savage life as much by the regu- lation of time as by any other feature. 1 see no objection to your red man, who, probably, can't go to breakfast till he has caught a bear, being up betimes ; but for the gentleman who goes to bed With the conviction that hot rolls and coffee, tea and marmalade, bloaters and honey, liani, muffins, and eggs await him at ten vj'clock ; for him, 1 bay, these absurd vagabondisms are an iusuil'erable alfeo THE abbe's story. 215 tation, and a most unwarrantable liberty with the peace and privacy of a household. Meanwhile, old Colonel Muddleton is parading below ; and here we must leave him for another chapter. CHAPTER XIII. THE CHASE. All the world was to figure on horseback. The horses theinselves no bad evidence of the exertions used to mount the party. Here was a rugged pony from the Ardennes, with short neck and low shoulder; his head broad as a bull's, and his counter like the bow of a Dutch galliot; there, a great Flemish beast, seventeen hands high, with a tail festooned over a straw " bustle," and even still hanging some inches on the ground — straight in the shoulder, and straighter in the pasterns — giving the rider a shock at every motion that, to any other than a Fleming, would lead to concussion of the brain. Here stood an English thoroughbred, sadly " shook " before, and with that tremulous quivering of the fore-legs that betokens a life of hard work ; still, with all his imperfec- tions, and the mark of a spavin behind, he looked like a gentleman among a crowd of low fellows — a reduced gentleman it is true — but a gentleman still. His mane was long and silky ; his coat was short and glossy ; his head finely formed, and well put on his long, taper, and well-balanced neck. Beside him was a huge Holsteiner, d-ipping his broad flanks with a tail like a weeping ash — • a great massive animal, that seemed from his action as if he were in the habit of ascending stairs, and now and then got the shock one feels when they come to a step too few. Among the mass there were some " Limousins " — pretty, neatly-formed little animals, with great strength for their appearance, and showing a deal of Arab breeding ; and an odd Schimmel or two from Hungary, snorting and pawing like a war-horse. But the staple was a collection 216 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. of such screws as every week are to be seen at Tattersall'a auction, announced as " first-rate weight-carriers with any fox-hounds — fast in double and single harness, and ' bflievod ' sound by the owner." Well, what credulous people are the proprietors of hoi-ses! These are the groat exports to tlie Low Countries, repaid in mock Vandycks, apocryi)hal Renibrandts, and fabulous Hob- bimas ; for the exliibitiou of which, in our dining-rooms and libraries, we are as heartily laughed at as tliey are for their taste in manners equine ! and in the same way exactly as we insist upon a great name with our landscape or our b dtle, so your Fleming must have a pedigree with his hunter. There must be " dam to Louisa," and " own brother to Hatcatchur " and Titus Oates, that won the " Levanter Handicap " in no matter where. Oh dear, oh dear ! when shall we have sense enough to go Avithout Snyders and Ostadc ? and when will Flemings be satisBed to ride on beasts which befit them — strong of limb, slow of gait, dull of temper, and not over-fastidious in feeding ; whose parentage has had no registry, and whose bl)od relations never were chronicled ? Truly, England is the land of " turn-out." All the foreign imitations of it are most ludicrous, from Prince ^lax of liavaria, who brought back with him to Munich a lord-mayor's coach, gilding, emblazonry, wigs, and all, as the true type of a London equipage — down to those strange merry-andrew figures in orange plush breeches and sky-blue frocks, that one sees galloping after tlie-ir masters along the Champs Elysees, like insane comets taking an airing on horseback. The whole thing is al)surd: they cannot accomplish it, do what they will; there's no success in the endeavour. It is like our miser- able failures to get up a petit diner or a soiree. If, then, French, Italians, and Germans, fail so lamentably, only think, I beseech you, of Flemings — imagine Belgium a c'lr-val! The author of " Tludibras" discovered years ago that these peofde were fish -that their land life was a little bit of distraction they permitted themselves to take from time to time ; but that their real element was a dyke or a canal. What would he have said if he saw them on horseback '^ THE CHASE. 217 Now I am free to confess that few men have less hope to win the world by deeds of horsemanship than Arthur O'Leary. I have ever looked upon it as a kind of pre sumption in me to get into the saddle. 1 have regarded my taking the reins as a species of duplicity on mj- part — • a tacit assumption that 1 had any sort of control over the beast; I have appeared to myself guilty of a moral mis- demeanour — the "obtaining a ride under false pretences." Yet when I saw myself astride of the " roan with the cut on her knee," and looked around me at the others, I iancied that I must have taken lessons from Franconi without knowing it; and even among the moustached heroes of the evening before, I bore myself like a gallant cavalier. "You sit your horse devilish like your father; he had just the same easy degage way in his saddle," said the old colonel, tapping his snulfbox, and looking at me with a smile of marked approval ; while he continued in a lower tone, " I've told Laura to uet near you if the mare becomes troublesome : the Flemings, you know, are not much to boast of as riders." I acknowledged the favour as well as I could, for already my horse was becoming fidgety. Everyone about me thinking it essential to spur and whip his beast into the nearest approach to mettle, and caper about like so many devils, while they cried out to each other — " Regardez, Charles, comment il est vif ce 'Tear away.' C'est une bete du diable. Ah tiens — tiens, vols done * Albert.' Le voiki, c'est ' All-in-my-eye,' fils de ' Charles Fox,' frere de ' Sevins-de-main' " " Ah, marquis, how goes it ? — II est beau votre cheval." " Oui, parbleu ; he is frere aiiie of ' Kiss-mi-ladi,' qui a gagne le handicap a I'lle du Dogs." And thus did these miserable imitators of Ascot and Doncaster, of Leamington and the Quorn, talk the most insane nonsense, which had been sold to them by some London horsedealer, as the pedigree of their hackneys. It was really delightful amid all this to see the two English girls, who sat their horses so easily and so grace- fully — bending slightly with each curvet, they only yielded to the impulse of the animal as much as served to keep 218 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTnUH o'lEARY. their own balance ; the lig'bt but steady finger on the bridle, the air of quiet composure, uniting elegance with comniaud. What a contrast to the distorted gesture, the desperate earnestness, and the fearful tenacity of their muoh-whiskorcd companions. And yet it was to please and fascinate these same pinchbeck sportsmen, these girls were then there. If they rode over everything that day — fence or rail, brook or bank — it was because the cliasse to them was less an cerf than au mari. 8uch was the case. The old colonel had left England because he preferred the Channel to the Fleet. The glorious liberty which Englishmen are so proud of would have been violated in his person had he remained. His failing, like many others, was tliat he had lived, "not Avisely, but too well ;" and, in shoi-t, however cold the climate, London would have proved too hot for him, had he stayed another day in it What a deluge of such people float over the Continent, living well and what is called '' most respectably ;" dining at embassies, and dancing at courts ; holding their head/ very high, too — most scrupulous about acquaintances, and exclusive in all their intimacies. They usually prefer foreign society to that of their countrymen, for obvious reasons. Few Frenchmen read the Gazette. I never heard of a German who knew anything about the list of outlaws. Of course they have no more to say to English preserves, and so they take out a license to shoot over the foreign manors; and though a marquis or a count are but "small deer," it's the only game left, and they make the best of it. At last the host appeared, attired in a scarlet frock, and wearing a badge at his buttonhole, something about the shape and cohjur o.f a now penny-piece. He was followed by above a dozen others, similarly habited, minus the badge ; and then came about twenty more, dressed in preen frocks, with red collars and uuifs, a species of smaller deities, who, J learned, were called " Asjiirants," though to what they aspired, where it was, or when they hoped for it, nobody could inform me. Then there were piquers, and grooms, and whippers-in, without number, all noisy 9iid all boisterous; about twenty couple of fox-hound^ THE CHASE. 219 piving tonpjuo, ancl a due proportion of tlic scarlet folk blowing away at that melodious pipe — the cor de chasse. With this goodly company I moved forward, " alone, but in a crowd ;" for, unhappily, my want of tact as a sporting chai-ncter the previous evening had damaged me seriously with tlie hunting youths, and Mademoiselle Laura showed no desire to accept the companionship her worthy father had selected for her. No matter, thought T, there's a great deal to see here, and 1 can do without chatting in so stirring a scene as this. Her companion was the Comte D'Espagne, an admirable specimen of what the French call " Tigre;" for be it known that the country which once obtained a reputa- tion little short of ludicrous for its excess of courtesy and the surplusage of its ceremony, has now, in the true spirit of reaction, adopted a degree of abruptness we should call rudeness, and a species of cold efirontcry we might mistake for insolence. The disciples of this new school are significantly called " Young France," and distin- guished for length of hair and beard — a look of frowning solem»Tiity and mock pre-occupation, very well-fitting gar- ments, and yellow gloves. These gentlemen are sparing of speech, and more so of gesture. They give to under- stand that some onerous deed of regeneration is expected at their hands — some revival of the old spirit of the nation. Though in what way it is to originate in curled moustaches and lacquered boots, is still a mystery to the many; but enough of them now. Of these was the Comte D'Espagne. 1 had almost forgotten to speak of one part of our corfege, which should certainly not be omitted. This was a, wooden edifice on wheels, drawn by a pair of horses at a brisk rate at the tail of the procession. At first it occurred to me that it might be an ambulant dog-kennel, lo i-eceive the hounds on their return. Then I suspected it to be a walking hospital for wounded sportsmen ; and certainly I could not but approve of the idea, as I called to mind the position of any unlucky chasseur, in the event of a fall, v.ith his fifteen feet of " metal main" around him ; and I only hoped that a plumber accompanied the expedition. My humanity, however, led me abti-.iy. Ti.v 220 ti:e adventures of Arthur o'leart. pagoda was destined for the accommodntiou of a stag, •■vho always assisted at the chasse, wLenever no other game coukl be started. This venerable beast, some five- and-twenty years in the service, was like a stock piece in the theatres, which, always ready, could be produced without a motnent's notice. Here was no rehearsal requi- site ; if a prima donna was sulky, or a tenor was drunk — if the fox wouldn't show, or the deer were shy — there was the stag, perfectly prepared for a pleasant canter of a few miles, and ready, if no one was intemperately pre- cipitate, to give a very agreeable morning's sport. His perfections, however, went farther than this; for he was trained to cross the liiLrh road at all convenient thorough- fares, occasionally taking the main streets of a village, or the market-place of a bourg, swimming whenever the water was shallow enough to follow him on horseback, and giving up the ghost at tiie blast of a grand niaitre's bugle, with an accuracy as unerring as though he had performed at Franconi's. Unhappily for me, I was not f;ited to witness an exhi- bition of his powers ; for scai'cely had we emerged from i;li6 wood when the dogs were laid on, and soon after found a fox. For some time the scene was an animated one, as every Fleming seemed to pin his faith on some favourite dog; and it was rather amusing to witness the eagernos with which each followed the movements of his adopted animal, cheering him on, and encouraging him to the top of his bent. At last the word " Away ! " was given, and sud- denly the dogs broke cover, and made across the plain in the direction of a great wood, or lather forest, above a niile off. The country, happily for most of us — I know it was so for me— was an open surface of gentle undula- tion, stubble and turnips the only impediments, and clay soft enough to make a fall easy. The sight was so far exhilarating, that red coats in a gallop have always a pleasant effect ; besides which, the very concourse of riders looks well. However, even as unsportsmanlike an eye as mine could detect the flaws in jockeyship aliout me — the fierce rushings of the gentle- men who pushed through the deepest ground, with a loose THE CHASE. 2'2l rein, flogging manfully the while; tlio pendulous jnotions of others between the mane and the haunches with every stride of the beast. But I had little time for such specu- lations ; the hour of my own trial was approaching; the roan was getting troublesome, the pace was gradually working up her mettle, and she had given three or four preparatory bounds, as though to see whether she'd part company with me before she ran away or not My own calculations at the moment were not very dissimilar- — I was meditating a rupture of the partnership too. The matrix of a full-length figure of Arthur O'Leary in red clay was the extent of any damage I could receive, and I only looked for a convenient spot where I might fall unseen. As I turned my head on every side, hoping for some secluded nook, some devil of a hunter, by way of directing the dogs, gave a blast of his brass instrument, about a hundred yards before me — the thing was now settled; the roan gave a whirl of her long vicious tail, plunged fearfully, and throwing down her head and twisting it to one side, as if to have a peep at my con- fusion, away she went. From having formed one of the rear guard, I now closed up with the main body — " aspi- rants," all — through whom I dashed like a catapult, and notwithstanding repeated shouts of "Pull in, sir!" " hold back!" &c., continued my onward course; a few seconds more and I was in the thick of the scarlet coats, my beast at the stretch of her speed, and caring nothing for the bridle. Amid a shower of '^ sacre-i" that fell upon me like hail, I sprung through them, making the " red ones " " black " with every stroke of my gallop. Leaving them far behind, I flew past the grand maitre himself, who rode in the van, almost upsetting him by a side spring, as I passed; a malediction reached me as I went, but the forest soon received me in its dark embrace, and I saw no more. It was at first a source of consolation to me to think that every stride removed me from the reach of those whose denunciations I had so unfortunately incurred — grand maitre, chasseurs, and aspirants — they were all behind me. Ay, for that matter, so were the dogs, and the piquers, and, for aught I knew, the fox with theui. 222 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. When I discovered, however, that the roan continued Ler speed, still unabattd, I began to be somewhat discon- certed. It was true the ground was perfectly smooth and safe : a long alUe of the wood, with turf shorn close as a pleasure ground. I pulled and sawed the bit, I jerked the bridle, and performed all the manual exercise I could re- member, as advised in such extremities, but to no use. It seemed to me that some confounded echo started the beast, and incited her to increased speed. Just as this notion struck me, I heard a voice behind cry out — " Do hold in — try and hold in, Mr. O'Leary !" I turned my head, and there was Laura, scarce a length behind, her thoroughbred straining every sinew to come up. No one else was in sight, and there we v^ere, galloping like mad, with the wood all to ourselves. I can very well conceive why the second horse in a race does his best to get foremost, if it were only the indulgence of a very natural piece of curiosity to see what the other has been running tor ; but why the first one only goes tlie faster, because there are others behind him, that is a dead puzzle to rae. But so it was ; my ill-starred beast never heemed to have put forth her full powers till she was followed. " Ventre a terre" as the French say, was now the pace, and though from time to time Laura would cry out to me to hold back, I could almost swear I heard her laughing at my efforts. Meanwhile the wo' d was becoming thicker and closer, and the allee narrower and evidently lessj travelled ; still it seemed to have no end or exit. Scarcely had we rounded one turn when a vista of miles would seem to stretch away before us, passing over which, another, as long again, would appear. After about an hour's hard galloping, if I dare form any conjecture as to the flight of time, I perceived with a feeling of triumph that the roan was relaxing somewhat in her stride, and beginning to evince, by an up-and-down kind of gait, what sailors call a "fore-and-aft" motion, that she was getting enough of it. I turned and saw Laura about twenty yards behind : her thoroughbred dead beat, and oidy able to sling along at that species of lobbing canter Vjlood cattle can accomplish, under any exigency. With a bold ellort I pulled up short, and she came alonj^- THE CHASE. 223 bide of rae, and before I could summon courage to meet the reproaches I expected for having been the cause of her runaway, she relieved my mind by a burst of as merry and good-tempered laugliter as ever I listened to. The emotion was contagious, and so I laughed too, and it was full five minutes before either of us could speak. " Well, Mr. O'Leary ! I hope you know where we are," said she, drying her eyes, where the sj)arkliiig drops of mirth were standing, " for I assure you I don't." " Oh, perfectly," replied I, as my eye caught a board nailed against a tree, on which some very ill-painted letters announced, " La route de Bouvigne " — " we are on the hi'h road to Bouvigne, wherever that may be." "Bouvigne!" exclaimed she, in an accent of some alarm — " why it's five leagues from the chateau ; I travelled there once by the high road. How are we ever to get back ? " That was the very question I was then canvassing in my own mind, without a thought of how it was to be solved. However, I answered with an easy indifference— " Oh, nothing easier — we'll take a caleche at Bouvigne." " But they've none." " Well, then, fresh horses." " There's not a horse in the place ; it's a little village near the Meuse, surrounded with tall granite rocks, and only remarkable for its ruined castle, the ancient schloss of Philip de Bouvigne?" " How interesting I " said I, delighted to catch at any- thing which should give the conversation a turn ; " and who was Philip de Bouvigne ? " " Philip," said the lady, " was the second or third count, I forget which, of the name. The chronicles say that he was the handsomest and most accomplished youth of the time. Nowhere could he meet his equal at joust or tour- nament : while his skill in arms was the least of his gifts ; he was a poet and a musician. In fact, if you were only to believe his historians, he was the most dangerous person for the young ladies of those days to meet with. JVot that he ran away with them, sur la grande route.'" As she said thi.s a burst of laughing stopped her, and it w.is one I could really forgive, though myself the object of 224 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. it. '' However," resumed she, " I believe lie was just as bad. "Well, to pursue my story, when Philip was but eighteen, it chanced that a party of warriors, bound for the Holy Land, came past the Castle of Bouvigne, and, of course, passed the night there. From them, many of whom had already been iu Palestine, Philip heard the wondrous stories the crusaders ever brought back of combats and encounters, of the fearful engagements with the infidels, and the glorious victories of the Cross. And at length, so excited did his mind become by the narrations, that he resolved on the spot to set out for the Holy Land, and see with his own eyes the wonderful things they had been telling him. " This resolution could not fail of being applauded by the rest, and by none was it met with such decided approval as by Henri deBethune, a young Liegeois, then setting out on his first crusade, who could not help extolling Philip's bravery, and above all, his devotion in the great cause, in quitting his home, and his young and beautiful wife; for 1 must tell you, as indeed I ought to have told you before, he had been but a few weeks married to the lovely Alice de Franchemont, the only daughter of the old Graf de Franchemont, of whose castle you may see the ruins near Chaude Fontaine." I nodded assent, and she went on, " Of course you can imagine the dreadful grief of the young countess when her husband broke to her his deter- mination. If I were a novelist I'd tell you of tears and entreaties, and sighs and faintings, of promises and pledges, and vows, and so forth ; for, indeed, it was a very sorrowful piece of business, and she didn't at all fancy passing some three or four years alone in the old keep at Bouvigne, with no society, not one single friend to speak to. At first, indeed, she would not hear of it, and it was only at length, when Henri de Betliune undertook to plead for him, — fur he kindly remained several days at the chatean, to apsi.st his friend at this conjuncture, — that she gave way, and consented. Still her consent was wrung from her against her convictions, and she was by no means satisfied that the arguments she yielded to were a whit too sound; and this, let me remark, en passant, \b a moat THE CnASE. 225 dangerous species of assent, when given by a lady — and one she always believes to l)e something of the nature of certfiin Catholic vows, which are only binding while you believe them reasonable and just." " Is that really so ? " interrupted I. " Do you, indeed, give me so low a standard of female fidelity as this 'i " " If women are sometimes false," replied she, " it is because men are never true ; but I must go on with my tale. Away went Count Pliilip, and with him his friend De Bethune. Tlie former, if the fact were known, just as low-spirited, when the time came, as the countess herself. IJut, then, lie had the double advantage — that he had a friend to talk with, and make participator of his sorrows ; besides being the one leaving, not left." " I don't know," interrupted 1 at this moment, " that you are right there ; I think that the associations whicli cling to the places where we have been happy are a good requital for the sorrowful memories they may call up. I'd ratlier linger around the spot consecrated by the spirit of past pleasure, and dream over again, hoar by hour, day by day, the bliss I knew there, than break up the charm of such memories by the vulgar incidents of travel, and the common-place adventures of a journey. ' " There, there 1 differ from you completely," replied she. " All your reflections and reminiscences, jrive them as fine names as you will, are nothing but sighings and repinings for what cannot come back again ; and such things only injure the temper, and spoil the complexion; whereas, but what are you laughing at?" " I was smiling at your remark, which has only a feminine application." " How teasing you are ! I declare I'll argue no more with you. Do you want to hear my story ? '' " Of all things — I'm greatly interested in it." " Well, then, you must not interrupt me any more. Now, where was I ? You actually made me forget where I stopped." " You Avere just at the point where they set out, Philip and his friend, for the Holy Land." "You must not expect from me any spirit-stirring nar- rative of the events in Palestine. Indeed, I'm not awaro Q 226 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEART. if the Chioniyue de FlanJrp, from which I take my tale, says anytliiug very particular about Philip de Bouvigne's performances. OF course, they were in accordance with liis former reputation: he killed his Saracens, like a true kni " The Pere Jose, I believe ? " said I, as I took my seat opposite to him. " That unworthy priest ! " said he, wiping his lips, and throwing up his eyes with an expression not wholly devo- tional. " Pere Jos6," resumed I, " a young lady and myself, ■who have just arrived here with weary horses, stand in need of your kind assistance." Here he pressed my hand gently, as if to assure me I was not mistaken in my man, and I went on : — " We must reach liochepied to-night ; now will you try and assist us at this conjuncture? we are complete strangers." " Enough, enough ! " said he. " I'm sorry you are con- strained for time. This is a sweet little place for a few days' sojourn. But if," said he, " it can't be, you shall have every aid in my power. I'll send off to Poil de Vache for his mule and car. Tou don't mind a little shaking," said he, smiling. " It's no time to be fastidious, Pere, and the lady is au excellent traveller." " The mule is a good beast, and will bring you in three hours, or even less." So saying, he sat down and wrote a few lines on a scrap of paper, with which he despatched a boy from the inn, telling him to make every haste. " And A NARROW ESCAPE. 235 now, "Monsieur, may I be permitted to pay my respects to Mademoiselle ?" " Most certainly, Pere Jose ; she will be but too happy to add her thanks to mine for what you have done for us." " Say rather, for what I am about to do," said he, smiling. " The will is half the deed, Father." " A good adage, and an old," replied he, while he pro- ceeded to arrange his drapery, and make himself as pre- sentable as the nature of his costume would admit. " This was a rapid business of yours," said he, as he smoothed down his few locks at the back of his head. " That it waVKNTDRB. It was growing late cm a fine evening of autumn, as, a t^olitary pedestrian, J drew near the little town of Spa. From the time of my leaving Chaude Fontaine, I lingered along the road, enjoying to the utmost the beautiful valley A MOUNTAIN ADVENTUliE. 247 of ihii Vesdre, and sometimes half hesilaiinq- wliether I would not loiter away some daws in one of the little vil- lages I passed, and see if the trout, whose circling eddies marked the stream, might not rise as favourably to my fly as to the vagrant insect that now flitted across the water. In good sooth, I wished for rest, and I wished for soli- tude ; too much of my life latterly had been passed in salons and soirees — the peaceful habit of my soul, the fruit of my own lonely hours — had suffered grievous in- roads by my partnership with the world ; and I deemed it essential to be once more apart from the jarring influ- ences and distracting casualties which every step in life is beset by, were it only to recover again my habitual tran- quillity — to refit the craft ere she took the sea once more. I wanted but little to decide my mind ; the sight of an inn, some picturesque spot, a pretty face — anything, in short — would have sufficed ; but somehow I suppose I must have been more fastidious than I knew of, for I con- tinued to walk onward, and at last, leaving the little hamlet of Pepinsterre behind me, set out with brisker pace towards Spa. The air was calm and balmy ; no leaf stirred ; the river beside the road did not even murmur, but crept silently along its gravelly bed, fearful to break the stillness. Gradually the shadows fell stronger and broader, and at length mingled into one broad expanse of gloom, and in a few minutes moi-e it was night. There is something very striking, I had almost said saddening, in the sudden transition from day to darkness, in those countries where no twilight exists. The gradual change by which road and mountain, rock and cliff, mellow into the hues of sunset, and grow grey in the " gloam- ing," deepening the shadows, and by degrees losing all outline in the dimness around, prepares us for the gloom of night. We feel it like the tranquil current of years, marking some happy life, where childhood and youth, and manhood and age, succeed in measured time. Not so the sudden and immediate change, which seems rather like the stroke of some fell misfortune, converting the cheerful hours into dark brooding melancholy. Years may, they '24S ti:e aptentukes of Arthur o'leary. do, fall lightly on some ; they creep with noiseless step, aiul youth and age gHde softly into each other, without any shock to awaken the thought that says — Adieu to this ! — Farewell to that for ever ! Thus was I rriusing, when suddenly I found mj-self at the spot whc'i-e tlie road brancliod off in two directions. No house, not a living thing was near, from whom I could ask the way. I endeavoured, by the imperfect light of the stars— for there was no moon — to ascertain Avhich road seemed most fi-equented and travelled, judging that Spa was the most likely resort of all journeying in these parts ; but, unhappily, I could detect no difference to guide me; there were wheel-tracks in both, and ruts and stones tolerably equitably adjusted ; each had a pathway, too, the right-hand road enjoying a slight superiority over the other, in this respect, as its path was more even. 1 was completely puzzled. Had I been mounted, I had left the matter to my horse ; but, unhappily, my de- cision had not a ])article of reason to guide it. I looked from the road to the trees, and from the trees to the stars, but they looked down as tranquilly as though either way would do — all save one — a sly little brilliant spangle in the south, that seemed to wink at my difficulty. " 'No matter," said I, " one thing is certain ; neither a supper nor a bed will come to look for me here, and so now for the best pathway, as I begin to feel foot-sore." My momentary embarrassment about the road com- pletely routed all my musings, and I now turned my thoughts to the comforts of the inn, and the pleasant little supper I promised myself on reaching it. 1 de- bated about what was in season, and what was not ; 1 spelled October twice to ascertain if oysters were in. and there came a doubt across me whether the Flemish name for the month might have an r in it, and then I laughed at my own bull ; afterwards I disputed with myself as to the relative merits of Chablis and Hochheimer, and resolved to be guided by the ffcir^on. I combated long a weakness I felt growing over me — for a pint of mulled claret, as the air was now becoming fresh ; but I gave iu at last, and began to hammer my brain for the French words for cloves and nutmeg. A MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE. 2 i9 In tliose innocent ruminations did an hour pass b}', and yet no sign of human habitation, no sound of life, could I perceive at either side of me. The night, 'tis true, was brighter as it became later, and there were stars in thousands in the sky; but I would gladly have exchanged Venus for the chambermaid of the humblest auberge, and given the Great Bear himself for a single slice of bacon. At length, after about two hours' walk- ing, I remarked that the road was becoming much more steep; indeed, it had presented a continual ascent for some miles, but now the acclivity was very considerable, particularly at the close of a long day's march ; I remem- bered well that Spa lay in a valley, but, for the life of me, I could not think whetlier a mountain was to be crossed to arrive there. " That comes of travelling by post," said I to myself; "had I walked the rond, 1 had never forgotten so remarkable a feature." While I said this, I could not help confessing that I had as lieve my pre- sent excursion had been also in a conveyance. " Forwiirts! fort, und Immer fort!" hummed I, remembering Komer's song, and taking it for my motto, and on I went at a good pace. It needed all my powers as a pedestrian, however, to face the mountain — for such I could see it was that I was now ascending — the patliway, too, less trodden than below, was encumbered with loose stones, and the trees which lined the way on either side gra- dually became thinner and rarer, and at last ceased altogether, exposing me to the cold blast, which swept from time to time across the barren heath with a chill that said October was own brother to November. Three hours and a half did I toil along, and at last the convic- tion came before me that I must have taken the wrong road. This could not possibly be the way to Spa ; indeed, I had great doubts that it led anywhere : I mounted upon a little rock, and took a survey of the bleak mountain side; but nothing could I see that indi- cated that the hand of man had ever laboured in that wild region. Fern and heath, clumps of gorse and mis- shapen rocks, diversified the barren surface on every side, and I now seemed to have gained the summit, a vast table-land spreading away for miles. I sat down to con- 250 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTUUR o'lEAHY. pider what was best to be done ; the thought of retracing BO many leagues of way was very depressing, and yet what were my chances it" 1 went forward 't Ah ! thought I, why did not some benevolent indi- vidual think of erecting lighthouses inland ? What a glorious invention would it have been ! — just think of the great mountain districts which lie in the very midst of civilization, i-athless, trackless, and unknown — where a benighted traveller may perish, within the very sour.d of succour, if he but knew where to seek it. How cheer- ing to the wayworn traveller as he plodded along his weary road, to lift from time to time his eyes to the guide- star in the distance! Had the monks been in the habit of going out in the dark, there's little doubt they'd have persuaded some good Catholics to endow some institutions like this. How well they knew hovv to have their chapels and convent* erected ! I'm not sure but I'd vow a little lighthouse myself to the Virgin, if I could only catr-h a glimpse of a gleam of light this moment. Just then, I thought I saw something twinkle, far away across the heath : I climbed up on the rock, and looked steadily in the direction — there was no doubt of it — there was a light — no Jack-o'-Lantern either, — but a good, respectable light, of domestic habits, shining steadily and brightly. It seemed far oflT, but there is nothing so deceptive as the view over a flat surface. In any case, I resolved to make for it, and so, seizing my staff, I once more set forward ; unhappily, however, I soon perceived that the road led off in a direction exactly the reverse of the object I sought, and I was now obliged to make my choice of quitting the path or abandoning the light ; my resolve was quickly made, and I started off across the plain, with my eyes steadily fixed upon my beacon. The mountain was marshy and wet, that wearisome surface of spongy hillock, and low, creeping brush.wood, the most fatal tiling to a tried walker, and I made but slow progress ; besides, frequently, from inequalities of the soil, I would lose sight of the light for half an hour together, and then, on its reappearing suddenly, discover how far I had wandered out of the direct line. These A MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE. 251 little aberrations did not certainly improve my tem[)er, and 1 plodded along, weary of limb, and out of spirits. At length I came to tlie verge of a declivity : beneath me lay a valley, winding and rugged, with a little torrent brawling through rocks and stones — a wild and gloomy scene, by the imperfect light of the star^. On the oppo- site mountain stood the coveted light, which now I could discover, proceeding from a building of some size, at least 8 5 far as I could pronounce from the murky shadow against the background of sky. I summoned up one great eifort, and pushed down the slope; now sliding on hands and feet, now trusting to a run of some yards where the ground was more feasible After a fatifjuine: course of two hours, I reached the crest of the opposite hill, and stood within a few hundred yards of the house- — the object of my wearisome jouimey. It was indeed in keeping with the deserted wildness of the place. A ruined tower, one of those square keeps which formerly were intended as frontier defences, stand- ing on a rocky base, beside the edge of a steep cliff, had been made a dwelling of by some solitary herdsman, for so the sheep, collected within a little inclosure, bespoke him. The rude efforts to make the place habitable were conspicuous in the door formed of wooden planks nailed coarsely together, and the window, whose panes were made of a thin substance, like parchment, through which, however, the blaze of a fire shone brightly without. Creeping carefully forward to take a reconnoissance of the interior before I asked for admission, I appioached a small aperture, whora a single pane of glass permitted a view : a great heap of blazing furze that filled he old chimney of the tower, lit up the whole space, and enabled me to see a man who sat on a log of wood beside the hearth, with his head bent upon his knees. His dress was a coarse blouse of striped woollen, descending to his knees, where a pair of gaiters of sheepskin were fastened by thongs of untaniied leather — his head was bare, and covered only by a long mass of black bail', that i'ell in tangled locks down his back, and even over his face, as he bent forward. A shepherd's staff, and a broad hat of felt, lay on the ground beside him ; there was neither 252 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEART. chair nor table, noi", save some fern in one corner, any tliiiiii: tliat might serve as a bed; a large earthenware jug, and a metal pot, stood near the fire, and a knife, such as butchers kill with, beside them. Over the chimney, however, was suspended, by two thongs of leather, a sword, long and straight, like the weapon of the heavy cavalry of France ; and, liigher again, I could see a great piece of printed paper was fastened to the wall. As I continued to scan, one by one, these signs of utter poverty, the man stretched out his limbs and rubbed his eyes for a minute or two, and then with a start sprang to his feet, displaying, as he did so, the proportions of a most power- ful and athletic frame. He was, as well as I could guess, about forty-five years of age ; but hardship and suifering had worn deep lines about his face, which was sallow and emaciated. A black moustache, that hung aown over his lip. and descended to his chin, concealed the lower part of his face — the upper was bold and manly, the fore- head high and well developed ; but his eyes — and I could mark tlieni well as the light fell on him — were of an unna- tural brilliancy — their sparkle had the feai^ful gleam of a mind diseased, and in their quick, restless glances through the room I saw that he was labouring under some insane delusion. He paced the room with a steady step, backwards and forwards, for a few minutes, and once, as he lifted his eyes above the chimney, he stopped abruptly, and carried his hand to his forehead in a mili- tary salute, w-hile he muttered something to himself; the moment after he threw open the door, and stepping out- side, g'ave a long, shrill whistle; he paused for a few seconds, and repeated it, when 1 could hear the distant barking of a dog replying to his call. Just then he turned abruptly, and, with a spring, seized me by the arm. " Who are you — what do you want here ? " said he, in a voice tremulous with passion. A few words- it was no tiine for long explanations — told nim how I had lost my way in the mountain, and was in Bearch of shelter for the nierht. " It was a lucky tliing for you that one of my lambs was as/ ray,'' said he, with a fierce smile. " If Tete-noire A MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE. 253 had been at home, he'd have made short work of jou — come in." With that he pushed me before him into the tower, and pointed to the block of wood, where he had been sitting previously, while he threw a fresh supply of furze upon the hearth, and stirred up the blaze with his foot. " The wind is moving round to the soutli'ard," said he ; " we'll have a heavy i'all of rain soon." " The stars look very bright, however " " Never trust them. Before day bi'eaks, you'll see tne mountain will be covered with mist." As he spoke, he crossed his arras on his breast, and re- commenced his walk up and down the chamber. The few words he spoke surprised me much by the tones of his voice — so unlike the accents I should have expected from one of his miserable and squalid appearance — they were mild, and bore the traces of one who had seen very dif- ferent fortunes from his present ones. I wished to speak and induce him to converse with me; but the efforts I made seemed only to excite his displea- sure, and I abandoned the endeavour with a good grace ; and having disposed my knapsack as a pillow, stretched myself full length before the hearth, and fell sound asleep. When I awoke, the shepherd was not to be seen ; the fire, which blazed brightly, showed, however, that he had not long been absent ; a huge log of beech had recently been thrown upon it. The day was breaking, and 1 went to the door to look out ; nothing, however, could 1 see ; vast clouds of mist were sweeping along before the wind, that sighed mournfully over the bleak mountains, and con- cealed everything a few yards off, while a thin rain came slanting down, the prelude to the storm the shepherd had prophesied. Never was there anything more dreaiy, within or with- out ; the miserable poverty of the ruined tower was scarcely a shelter from the coming hurricane. I returned to my place beside the fire, sad and low in heart. While I was conjecturing within myself what distance I might be from Spa, and how 1 could contrive to reach it, I chanced to fix my eyes on the sabre above the cliimney, 254 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEART. ■which I took down to examine. It was a plain straight weapon, of tlio kind carried by the soldier}'; its only sign of inscription was the letter " N " on the blade. .As I replaced it, I caught sight of the printed paper, which, begrimed with smoke, and partly obliterated by time, was nearly illegible. After much pains, however, I succeeded in deciphering the following; it was headed in laj^je letters — " Ordre du Jour, de I'Armee Fran^aise. " Le 9 Thermidor." The lines which followed immediately were covered by another piece of paper pasted over them, where I could just here and there detect a stray word, which seemed to indicate that the whole bore reference to some victory of the republican army. The last four lines, much clearer than the rest, ran thus : — " Le citoyen Aubuisson, chef de bataillon de Grenadiers, de cette demi-brigade, est entiele premier dans la redoute. Il a eu son habit crible de balles." * I read and re-read the lines a dozen times over ; indeed, to this hour are they fast fixed in my memory. Some strange mystery seemed to connect them with the poor shepherd — otherwise, why were they here ? I thought over his ficrure, strong: and well-knit, as I saw him stand ... upright in the room, and of his military salute ; and the conviction came fully over me that the miserable creature, covered with rags and struggling with want, was no other than the citizen Aubuisson. Yet, by what fearful vicissitude had he fallen to this ? The wild ex})ression of his features at times did indeed look like insanity ; still, what he said to me was both calm and coherent. The my.stery excited all my curiosity, and J longed for his return, in the hope of detecting some clue to it. The door opened suddenly ; a large dog, more mastiff than sh(-cp-dog, dashed in ; seeing me, he retreated a step, and, fixing his eyes steadily upcm me, gave a fearful howl. * The citizen Aubuisson, chef -de-bataillon of Grenadiers, of this briL'a'le. was the firsif to enter the redoubt. Hif? coat was riddled with bulleta. A MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE. 255 T could not stir from fear. I saw that he was jjrepuring for a spring, when the voice of the shepherd called our, " Couche-toi, Tete-noire, couche ! " The savage beast at once slunk quietly to a cornet', and lay down, still never taking his eyes from me, and seeming as if his services would soon be in request in my behalf; while his master sliook the rain from his hat and blouse, and came forward to dry himself at the fire. Fixing his eyes steadfastly on the red embers as he stirred them with his foot, he muttered some few and broken words, among which, although I listened attentively, I could but hear, "Pas un mot — silence — silence, a la mort ! " " You were not wrong in your prophecy, shepherd ; the storm is setting in already," said I, wishing to attract his attention. " Hush ! " said he, in a low whisper, while he motioned me with his hand to be still, " hush — not a word ! " The eager glare of madness was in his eye as he spoke, and a tremulous movement of his pale cheek betokened some great inward convulsion. He threw his eyes slowly around the miserable room, looking below and above with the scrutinizing glance of one resolved to let nothing es- cape his observation ; and then kneeling down on one knee beside the blaze, he took a piece of dry wood, and stole it quietly among the embers. " There, there ! " cried he, springing to his legs, while he seized me rudely by the shoulder, and hurried me to the distant end of the room. " Come — quickly— stand back — stand back there — see — see," said he, as the crack- ling sparks flew up and the tongned flame rose in th« chimney, " there it goes ! " Then, putting his lips to my ear, he muttered, " Not a word ! — silence — silence to the death ! " As he said this, he drew himself up to his full height, and, crossing his arms upon his breast, stood firm and erect before me, and certainly — covered with rags the meanest poverty would have rejected, shrunk by famine, and chilled by hunger and storm — there was still remain- ing the traits of a once noble face and figure. The fire of madness, unquenched by every misery, lit up his dark eye, and even on his compressed lip there was a curl of pride. 256 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEART. Poor fellow ! some pleasant memory seemed to flit acrosa Lim ; he smiled, and as lie moved his hair from his fore- head he bowed his head slightly, and murmured, " Oui, sire!" How soft, how musical that voice was then! Just at this instant the deep bleating of the sheep was heard without, and Tete-noire, springing up, rushed to the door, and scratched tiercely with his fore-paws. The shepherd hastened to open it, and to my surprise I beheld a boy, about twelve years of age, poorly clad and drip- ping with wet, who was carrying a small canvas bag on his back. " Has the lamb been found, Lazare ? " said the child, as he unslung his little sack. " res ; 'tis safe in the fold." "And the spotted ewe? Ton don't think the wolves could have taken her away so early as this " " Hush, hush ! " said the shepherd, with a warning ges- ture to the child, who seemed at once to see that the luna- tic's vision was on him ; for he drew his little blouse close around his throat, and muttered a " Bon jour, Lazare," and departed. " Couldn't that boy guide me down to Spa, or some vil- lage near it ? " said I, anxious to seize an opportunity of escape. He looked at me without seeming to understand my question. I repeated it more slowly, when, as if suddenly aware of my moaning, he replied quickly — " No, no ; little Pierre has a long road to go home ; he lives far away in the mountains ; I'll show you the way myself." With that, he opened the sack, and took forth a loaf of coarse wheaten bread, such as the poorest cottagers make, and a tin flask of milk. Tearing the loaf asunder, he handed me one half, which, more from policy than hunger, though I had endured a long iast. I accepted. Then, passing the milk towards me, he jnade a sign for me to drink, and when I had done, seized the flask himself, and, nodding gaily with his head, cried, "A vous, camarade." Simple as the gesture, and few the words, they both con- vinced mo that he had been a soldier once ; and each moment only fitieugthened me in the impression that I A MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE. 257 liad before me in the shepherd Lazare an officer of tho Grande Armee — one of those heroes of a hundred fights, •whose glory was the tributary stream in the great ocean of the Empire's grandeur. Our meal was soon concluded, and in silence ; and Lazare, having replenished his fire, went to the door and looked out. '* It will be wilder ere night," said he, as he peered into the dense mist, which, pressed down by rain, lay like a pall upon the earth ; " if you are a good walker, I'll take you by a short way to Spa." *' I'll do my best," said I, " to follow you." " The mountain is easy enough ; but there may be a stream or two swollen by the rains. They are sometimes dangerous." " What distance are we then from Spa ? " "Four leagues and a half by the nearest route — seven nnd a half by the road. Come, Tete-noire — bonne bete," said he, patting the savage beast, who, with a rude gesture of his tail, evinced his joy at the recognition. "Thou must be on guard to-day — take care of these for me — that thou wilt, old fellow — farewell, good beast, good-bye ! " The animal, as if he understood every word, stood with his red eyes fixed upon him till he had done, and then answered by a long, low howl. Lazare smiled with pleasure, as he waved his hand towards him, and led tho way from the tower. I had but time to leave two louis-d'ors on the block of wood, when he called out to me to follow him. The pace he walked at, as well as the rugged course of the way he took, prevented my keeping at his side ; and I could only [ track him as he moved along through the misty rain, like some genius of the storm, his long locks flowing wildly behind him, and his tattered garments fluttering in the wind. It was a toilsome and dreary march, unrelieved by aught to lessen the fatigue. Lazare never spoke one word the entire time — occasionally he would point with his stafi'to the course we were to take, or mark the flight of some great bird of prey, soaring along near the ground, as if fearless of man in regions so wild and desolate save: s 258 THE ADYENTUKES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY, at these moments, lie seemed buried in his own gloomy thoughts. Four hours of hard walking brought us at last to the summit of a greot mountain, from which, as the mist was considerably cleared away, I could perceive a number of lesser mountains surrounding it, like the waves of the sea. My guide pointed to the ground, as if recom- mending a rest, and I willingly threw myself on the heatli, damp and wet as it was. The rest was a short one : he soon motioned me to resume the way, and we plodded onward for an houi' longer, when we came to a great table-land of several 'miles in extent, but which still I could perceive was on a /cry high level. At last we reached a little grove of stunted pines, where a rude cross of stone stood — a mark to commemorate the spot where a murder had been com- mitted, and to entreat prayers for the discovery of the murderers. Here Lazare stopjicd, and pointing to a little narroAV path in the heather, he said, — " Spa is scarce two leagues distant — it lies in the valley yonder — follow this path, and you'll not fail to reach it." While I proffered my thanks to him for his guidance, I could not help expressing my wish to make some slight return for it. A dark, disdainful look soon stopped mo in my speech, and I turned it oif, in a desire to leave some souvenir of my night's lodging behind me, in the old tower. But even this he Avould not hear of, and when I stretched out my hand to bid him good-bye, he took it with a cold and distant courtesy, as though he were condescend- ing to a favour he had no fancy for. "Adieu, monsieur," said 1, still tempted, by a last; effort of allusion to his once condition, to draw something from him ; " adieu ! " He approached me nearer, and with a voice of tremu- lous eagerness, he muttered — " Not a word yonder — not a syllable — pledge me your faitli in that ! " Thinking now that it was merely the recurrence of his paroxy.sm, I answered carelessly — " Kcver fear, I'll say nothing." *' Yes, but swear it," said he, with a fixed look of his dark eye ; " swear it to me now — so long as you are A MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE. 259 below tliere" — he pointed to the valley — "younevex' speak of me." I made him the promise ho required, though with great unwillingness, as my curiosity to learn something about him wa-s becoming intense. "Not a word!" said he, with a finger on his lip, " that's the consignc.''' " Not a word ! " repeated I, and we parted. CHAPTER XYI. THE BORE — A SOLDIER OF THE EMPIRE. Two hours after I was enjoying the pleasant fire of the Hotel de Flandre, where I arrived in time for table dlwte, not a little to the surprise of the host and six waiters, who were totally lost in conjectures to account for my route, and sorely puzzled to ascertain the name of my last hotel in the mountains, A watering-place at the close of a season is always a sad-looking thing. The ban'icades of the coming winter already begin to show — the little statues in public gai'- dens are assuming their great coats of straw against the rigours of f r ost-'-ihe jet-d'eaux cease to play, or per- form with the unwilling air of actors to empty benches — the fahle dlwtes present their long dinner-rooms unoccu- pied, save by a little table at one end, where some half- dozen shivering inmates still remain, the debris of the mighty army who floui-ished their knives there but six weeks before. These usually consist of a stray invalid or two, completing his course of the waters — he has a fortnight of sulphuretted hydrogen before him yet, and he dare not budge till he has finished his " heeltap" of abomination. Then there's the old half-pay major, that has lived in Spa, for aught I know, since the siege of Namur, and who passes his nine months of winter shoot- ing quails and playing dominoes ; and there's an elderly 2G0 THE ADVENTUKES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. lady, witli spectacles, always working at a little embro^ dery frame, who speaks no French, nor seems to be aware of anything going on around her. Xo one can guess why she is there — I wager she does not know herself; and lastly, there is a very distracted-looking young gentle- man, with a shooting jacket, and young moustaches, who having been " cleaned out " at rouge et noir^ is w-aiting in the hope of a remittance from some commiserating relative in England. The theatre is closed — its little stars, dispersed among the small capitals, have shrunk back to their former pro- portions of third and fourth-rate parts — for though butterflies in July, they are mere grubs in December. "While the clink of the croupier's mace no longer is heard, revelling amid the five-franc pieces, all is still and silent in that room which so late the conflict of human passion, hope, envy, fear, and despair, had made a very hell on earth. The donkeys, too — who but the other day were decked in scarlet trappings — are now despoiled of their gay panoply, and condemned to the mean drudgery of the cart/ Poor beasts ! their drooping ears and fallen heads seem to show some sense of their changed fortunes. No longer bearing the burden of some fair-cheeked girl, or laughing boy, along the mountain side — they are brought down to the daily labour of the cottage; and a cutlet is no more like a mutton chop, than is a donkey like an ass. So does everything suS'er a " sea-change." The " modiste," whose pretty cap with its gay ribbons was itself an advertisement of her wares, has taken to a close bonnet and a woollen shawl — a metamorphosis as com- plete as is the misshapen mass of cloaks and mud-boots of the agile " danseuse," who flitted between earth and :air, a few moments before. Even the doctor — and what a study is the doctor of a watering-place ! — even he has laid by his smiles and his soft speeches, folded up in the same drawer with his black coat, for the winter. He has not thrown physic to the dogs, because he is fond of sporting, and would not injure the poor beasts, but he has ^'iven it an " au revoir ; " and as grouse come in with autumn, and blackcock in November, so does he feel thalybeates are in season on the first of May. Exchang- THE BORE. 2G1 ing his cane for a Manton, and his mild whisper for a dog-whistle, he takes to the j)ursuit of tlio lower animals, leaving men for the warmer months. All this disconcerts one ; you hate to be present at those " demcnagements," where the curtains are taking down, and the carpet is taking up ; wliere they are nailing canvas across pictures, and storing books into pantrie?. These smaller revolutions are all very detestable, and you gladly escape into some quiet and retired spot and wait till the fussing be over. So felt I. Had I came a month later, this place would have suited me perfectly, but this process of human moulting is horrible to witness, and so, say I once more — en route. Like a Dutchman who took a run of three miles to jump over a hill, and then sat down tired at the foot of it, I flurried myself so completely in canvassing all the possi- ble places I might, could, would, should, or ought to pass the winter in, that I actually took a fortnight to recover my energies before I could set out. Meanwhile I had made a close friendship with a dyspeptic countryman of mine, who went about the Continent with a small port- manteau and a very large medicine chest, chasing health from Naples to Paris, and from Aix-la-Chapelle to Wild- bad, firmlypersuadedthat every country had only one month in the year at most whei'ein it were safe to live there — Spa being the appropriate place to pass the October. He cared nothing for the ordinary topics that engross the attention of mankind— kings might be dethroned and dynasties demolished — states might revolt and subjects be rebellious — all he wanted to know was, not what changes were made in the code but in the pharmacopoeia. The libei'tj of the press was a matter of indifference to him; he cared ^ little for what men might say, but a great deal for what it was safe to swallow, and looked npon the inventor of blue pill as the greatest benefactor of mankind. He had the analysis of every well and spring in Germany at his fin- ger's end, and could tell you the temperature and atomic proportions like his alphabet. But his great system was a kind of reciprocity treaty between health and sickness, by which a man could commit any species of gluttony ho pleased Avhen he knew the peculiar antagonist principle ; 262 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'leARY. and tlius lie ate — I was going to say like a sliark, but let me not in my ignorance calumniate the fish — for I know not if anything" that ever swam could cat a soup with a cus- tard pudding, followed by beef and beetroot, stewed mack- erel and treacle, pickled oysters and preserved cherries, roast hare and cucumbei', venison, salad, prunes, hashed mutton, omelettes, pastry ; and finally, to wind up with eflect, a sturgeon baked with brandy-peaches in his abdo- • nen — a thing to make a cook weep and a German blessed, ^uch was m.y poor friend, Mr. Bartholomew Catei-, tha most thin, spare, emaciated, and miserable-looking man that ever sipped at Schwalbach or shivered at Kissingen. To permit these extravagancies in diet, however, he had concocted a code of reprisals, consisting in the various mineral waters of Germany, and the poisonous metals of modern pharmacy ; and having estabh'shed the fact that "bitter wasser " and "Carlsbad," the " Powon " and "Piinitz," combined with blue pill, were the natural ene- mies of all things eatable, he swallowed these freely, and then left the matter to the rebellious ingredients, pretty much as the English used to govern Ireland in times gone by, set both parties by the ears and wait the result in peace, well aware that a slight derangement of the balance, from time to time, would keep the contest in motion. Such was the state policy of Mr. Cater, and I can only say that his "constitution" survived it, though that of Ireland seems to sufler grievously from the experiment. This lively gentleman was then my companion; indeed, ■with that cohesive property of your true bore, he was ever beside me, relating some little interesting anecdote of a jaundice or a dropsy, a tertian or a typhus, by which agree* aljle souvenirs he preserved the memory of Athens or Naples, Homo or Dresden, fresh and unclouded in his mind. Kot satisfied, however, with narration, like all enthusiasts, lie would be proselytizing ; and whether from the foi'ce of Jiis arguments or the weakness of wy nature, found a ready victim in mc — insomuch, that under his admirable instruc- tion I was already beginning to feel a dislike and disgust to all things eatable, with an appetite only grown more raven- ous ; while my reverence for all springs of unsavoury taste andsracll — once, I must confess, at a deplorably low ebb— THE BORE. 2G3 was gradually becoming more developed. It was only by the accidental discovery that my waistcoat could be made to fit, by putting it twice round mc, and that my coat was a dependency, of which I was scarcely the nucleus, that I really became frightened. What! thought I, can this be that Arthur O'Lcary whom men jested on his rotundity ? Is this me, around whom children ran, as they would about a pillar or a menu- raent, and thought it exercise to circumambulate ? Arthur, this will be the death of thee ; thou wert a happy man and a fat before thou knevvest Koch brunnens and thermo- meters ; run while it is yet time, and be thankful at least that thou art in racing condition. With noiseless step and cautious gesture, I crept down stairs one morning at daybi'cak. My enemy was still asleep. I heard him muttering as I passed his door; doubtless he was dreaming of some new combination of horrors, some infernal alliance of cucumbers and quinine. I passed on in silence ; my very teeth chattered with fear ■ — happy was I to have them to chattel' — another fortnight of his intimacy, and they would have trembled from blue pill as well as panic. With a heavy sigh I paid my bill, and crossed the street towards the diligence office. One place only i-emained vacant, it was in the banquette. No matter, thought I, anywhere will do at present, " Where is monsieur going ? for there will be a place vacant in the coupe at " " I have not thought of that yet," said I ; "but when wo reach Vervier we'll see." " Aliens, then," said the conducteur, while he whispered to the clerk of the office a few words I could not catch. "You are mistaken, friend," said I; "it's not creditors, they are only chalybcates I'm running from ;" and so wo started. Before I follow out any farther my own ramblings, I should like to acquit a debt I owe my reader — if I daro flatter myself that he cares for its discharge — by returning to the story of the poor shepherd of the mountains, and which I cannot more seasonably do than at this place ; although the details I am about to relate were furnished t<> 2G1 THE ADVENTURES OF AIITHUR o'lEARY. me a great many years after tliis, and during a visit I paid to Lyons in 1828. In the Cafe de la Coupe d'Or, so conspicuous in the Place dcs Terveaux, where I usually resorted to pass my evcniTifs, and indulge in the cheap luxuries of my coffee and cheroot, I happened to make a bowing acquaintance with a venerable elderly gentleman, who each night resorted there to read the papers, and amuse himself by lookin"" over the chess-players, with which the room was crowded. Some accidental interchange of newspapers led to a recognition, and that again advanced to a few words. each time we met, till one evening, chance placed us at the same table, and we chatted away several hours, and parted in the hope, mutually expressed, of renewing our acquaintance at an early period. 1 had no difHculty in interrogating the Dame du Cafe aDout my new acquaintance. He was a striking and remarkable-looking personage, tall, and military-looking, with an air of " Grand Seigneur," which in a Frenchman. is never deceptive ; certainly I never saw it successfully assumed by any w'ho had no right to it. lie wore his hair " en queue," and in his dress evinced, in several trifling matters, an adherence to the habitudes of the old regime ; so, at least, I interpreted his lace ruffles and silk stockings, with his broad buckles of brilliants in his shoes ; the ribbon of St. Louis, whicli he wore unostentatiously on hia waistcoat, was his only decoration. " That is the Vicomte de Berlemont, ancien colcnel-en- chef," said she, with an accent of pride at the mention of BO distinguished a frequenter of the cafe; "he has not missed an evening here for yeai'S past." A few more words of inquiry elicited from her the information that the Vicomte had served in all the wars of the Empire up to the time of the abdication — that on the restoration of the Bourbons he had received his rank in the service from them, and, faithful to their fortunes, had followed Louis XVIII. in exile to Ghent. " He has seen a deal of the world, then, Madame, ii» would appear ? " " That he has, and loves to speak about it, too ; time- y/BS when they reckoned the Vicomte the pleasantest A SOLDIEK OF THE EMPIRE. 2G5 persons in Lyons ; but they say he has grown old now, and contracted a habit of repeating his stories. I can't tell how that may be, but I tliink him always aimahle.^' A delightful word that same aimable is ! and so thinkincr, I wished Madame good-night, and departed. The next evening I lay in wait for the old colonel, and was flattered to see that he was taking equal pains to discover me. We retired to a little table, ordered our coffee and chatted away till midnight. Such was the com- mencement, such the course, of one of the pleasantest intimacies 1 ever formed. The Yicorate Avas unquestionably the most agreeable specimen of his nation I had ever met ; easy and un- affected in his manner; he had seen much, and observed shrewdly; not much skilled in book learning, but deeply read in mankind ; his views of politics were of tliafe unt'xaggerated character which are so often found correct ; while of his foresight I can give no higher token, than that he then predicted to me the events of the year 18.30, only erring as to the time, which he deemed might not be so far distant. The Empire, however, and Napoleon, were his favourite topics. Bourbonist as he was, the splendour of France in 1810 and 1811, the greatness of the mighty man whose genius then ruled its destinies, had captivated his imagination, and he would talk for hours over tlie events of Parisian life at that period, and the more bril- liant incidents of the campaigns. It was in one of our conversations, prolonged beyond the usual time, in discussing the characters of those imme- diately about the person of the Emperor, that I felt some- what struck by the remark he made, that, while " Napo- leon did meet unquestionably many instances of deep ingratitude from those whom he had covered with honours and heaped with favours, still nothing ever equalled tlie attachment the oflBcers of the army generally bore to his person, and the devotion they felt for his gloiy and his honour. " It was not a sentiment, it was a religious belief among the j^oung men of my day, that the Emperor could do no wrong. What you assume in your country by courtesy, Ive believed do facto. So many times had events, seeming 266 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEART. most disastrous, turned out pregnant with advantage and success, that a dilemma was rather a subject of amusing speculation amongst us, than a matter of doubt and despondency. "There came a terrible i-everse to all this, however," said he, as his voice fell to a lower and sadder key ; " a fearful lesson was in store for us. Poor Aubuisson ■" " Aubuisson ! " said I, starting; "was that the name you mentioned ? " "Yes," said he, in amazement; "have you heard the story, then ? " " No," said I, " I know of no story; it was the name alone struck me. Was it not one of that name who was mentioned in one of Bonaparte's despatches from Egypt ? " " To be sure it was, and the same man, too ; he was the first in the trenches at Alexandria ; he carried off a ]\ramcluke chief his prisoner, at the battle of the Pyra- mids." " What manner of man was he ? " "A powerful fellow, one of the largest of his regiment, and they were a Grenadier battalion ; he had black hair and black moustache, which he wore long and drooping, in En;yptian fashion." " The same — the very same! " cried I, carried away by my excitement. " What do you mean ? " said the colonel ; " you've never seexT him, surely ; he died at Charenton the same year Waterloo was fought." " No such thing," said I, feeling convinced that Lazare was the person. " I saw him alive long since ; " and with that I related the story I have told my readci', detailing minutely every little particular which might serve t'> confirm my impression of the identity. "No, no," said the Vicomtc, shaking his head, "you are mistaken ; Aubuisson was a patient at Charenton for ten years, when he died. The circumstances you mention are certaiidy both curious and strange, but I cannot think they have any connection with the fortunes of poor Gus- tavo ; at all events, if you like to hear the story, coma home with me, and Pll tell it; the cafe is about to close now, and v/c must leave." k SOLDIER OF THE EMPIRE. 2G7 I gladly a(;cepted the offer, for whatever doubts he had conceruing Lazare's identity with Aubuisson, mi/ convic- tions were complete, and I longed to hear the solution of a mystery over which I had pondered many a day of march, and many a sleepless night. I could scarcely contain my impatience during supper. The thought of Lazare absorbed everything in my mind, and I fancied the old colonel's appetite knew no bounds when the meal had lasted about a quarter of an hour. At last he finished, and having devised his modest glass of weak wine and water, began the story, of which I present the leading features to my readers, omitting, of course, those little occasional digressions and reflections by which the narrator himself accompanied his tale. CHAPTER XVII. THE RETREAT FROM LEIPSIC. The third day of the disastrous battle of Leipsic was drawing to a close, as the armies of the coalition made one terrible and fierce attack, in concert, against the Im- perial forces. Never was anj-thing before heard like the deafening thunder, as three hundred guns of heavy artil- lery opened their fire at once, from end to end of the line, C^id three hundred thousand men advanced, wildly cheer- . fr^g, to the attack. Wearied, worn out, and exhausted, the French army neld their gi'ound, like men prepared to die befoi'e their Emperor, but never desert him, Avhen the fearful intelli- gence was brought to Napoleon, that in three days the army had fired ninety-five thousand cannon balls,* that the reserve ammunition was entirely consumed, and but sixteen thousand cannon balls remained, barely sufficient * Historical. 268 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. to maintain the fire two hours longer ! What was to he done ? No resources lay ne^.rer than Magdeburg' or Erfurt. To the latter place the Emperor at once decided on retiring, and at seven o'clock the order was given for the artillery waggons and baggage to pass the defile of Lin- denau, and retreat over the El^ter ; the same order being transmitted to the cavalry and the other coi-ps of the army. The defile was a long and difficult one, extending for two leagues, and traversing several bridges. To accom- plish the j-etreat in safety, Napoleon was counselled to hold the allies in check by a strong force of artillery, and then set fire to the faubourg ; but the conduct of the Saxon troops, however deserving of his anger, could not warrant a punishment so fearful on the monarch of that country, who, through, every change of fortune, had stood steady in his friendship : he rejected the course at once, and determined on retreating as best he might. The movement was then begun at once, and every avenue that led to the faubourg of Lindenau was crowded by troops of all arms, eagerly pressing onward — a fearful scene of confusion and dismay, for it was a beaten armv who fled, and one which until now never had thoroughly felt the horrors of defeat. From seven until nine the columns came on at a quick step, the cavalry at a trot ; defiling along the narrow gorge of Lindenau, they passed a mill at the roadside, where, at a window, stood one with arms crossed and head bent upon his bosom. He gazed steadfastly at the long train beneath, but never noticed the salutes of the general officers as they passed along. It was the Emperor himself! pale and careworn, his low chapcau pressed down far on his brows, and his uniform splashed and travel-stained. For above an hour lie stood thus silent and motionless, then throwing him- self upon a bed he slept. Yes! amid all the terrible events of that disastrous retreat, when the foundations of the niiglity empire he had created were crumbling beneath him, when the great army he had so often led to victory was defiling beaten before him, he laid him wearied upon a pillow and slept ! A terrible cannonade, the fire of seventy large guns, brought to i;ear upon the ramparts, shook the very earth. THE RETREAT FROM LEIPSIC. 2G9 and at length awoke him, who through all the din and clamour slept soundly and tranquilly. " What is it, Duroc ? " said he, raising himself upon one arm, and looking up. " It is Swartzenberg's attack, sire, on the rampart of Halle." " Ha ! so near ? " said he, springing up and approaching the window, from which the bright flashes of the artillery were each moment discernible in the dark sky. At tlie same moment an aide-de-camp galloped up, and dis- mounted at the door : in another minute he was in tl e room. The Saxon troops, left by the Emperor as a guard of honour and protection to the unhappy monarch, had opened a fire on the retreating columns, and a fearful confusion was the result. The Emperor spoke not a word. Macdonald's corps and Poniatowski's division were still in Leipsic ; but already they had commenced their retiring movement on Lindenau. Lauriston's brigade was also rapidly approaching the bridge over the Elster, to which now the men were hurrying madly on, intent alone on flight. The bridge — the only one by which the troops could pass — had laeen mined, and committed to the charge of Colonel Montfort, of the Engineers, with directions to blow it up when the enemy appeared, and thus gain time for the baggage to retreat. As the aide-de-camp stood awaiting Napoleon's orders to a few lines written in pencil by the Duke of Tarento, another staff officer arrived, breathless, to say that the allies had carried the rampart, and were already in Leipsic. Napoleon became deadly pale ; then, with a motion of his hand, he signed to the officer to withdraw. " Duroc," said he, when they were alone, " where is Nansouty ? " " With the eighth corps, sire. They have passed an hour since." " Who commands the picquet without? " " Aubuissou, sire." " Send him to rae, and leave us alone." In a few moments Colonel Aubuisson entered. His arm was in a sling from a sabre wound he had received the morning before, but which did not prevent his remain- 270 THE ADMilXTURES OF ARTHUR o'l|E\RY. ing on duty. The stout soldier seemed as unconcei'nod and fcnrlcss in that dreadful moment as though it were a day of gala manoeuvres, and not one of disaster and defeat. " Aubuisson," said the Emperor, "you were with us at Alexandria? " " I was, sire," said he, as a deeper tinge coloured his bronzed features. " The first in the rampart — I remember it well," said Napoleon; "the ordre dio jour commemorates the deed. It was at Moscowa you gained the cross, I believe ? " continued he, after a slight pause. *' I never obtained it, sire," replied Aubuisson, with a struggle to repress some disappointment in his tone. " How — never obtained it ! — you, Aubuisson, an ancient * brave ' of the Pyramids. Come, come, there has been a mistake somewhere — we must look to this. Meanwhile, General Aubuisson, take mine." With that he detached his cordon from the breast of his uniform, and fastened it on the coat of the astonished officer, who could only mutter the words, " Sire — sire ! '* in reply. *' Now, then, for a service you must render me, and speedily, too," said Napoleon, as he laid his hand on the general s shoulder. The Emperor whispered for some seconds in his ear, then looked at him fixedly in the face. " What ! " cried he, " do you hesitate ? " " Hesitate, sire ! " said Aubuisson, starting back. " Never! If your majesty had ordered me to the mouth of a mortar — but I wish to know " Napoleon did not permit him to conclude, but drawing him closer, whispered again a few words in his ear. " And, mark me," said he, aloud, as he finished, " mark me, Aubuisson — silence, 2x1s itn mot — silence, a la mort! " " A la onort, sire ! " repeated the general, while at the same moment Duroc hurried into the room, and cried out — "They are advancing towards the Elster — Macdonald's rear-guard is engaged " A motion of Napoleon's hand towards the dooi. and a look at Aubuisson, was the only notice he took ©f the intelligence, and the officer was gone. THE RETREAT FROM LEIPSIC. 271 While Duroc continued to detail the disastrous events the last arrived news had announced, the Emperor approaclwjd the -window, which was still open, and looked out. All was in darkness towards that part of the city near the defile. The attack was on the distant rampart, near which the sky was red and lurid. Still it was towards that dark and gloomy part Napoleon's eyes were turned, and not in the direction where the fight was still raging. Peering into the dense blackness, he stood with- out speaking, when suddenly a bright gleam of light shot up from the gloom, and then came three tremendous reports, so rapidly, one after the other, as almost to seem like one. The same instant a blaze of fire flashed upwards towards the sky, and glittering fragments of burning timber wei-e hxirled into the air. Napoleon covered his eyes with his hand, and leaned against the side of the window. " It is the bridge over the Elster ! " cried Duroc, in a voice half-wild with passion. " They've blown up the bridge before Macdonald's division have crossed." " Impossible ! " said the Emperor. " Go see, quickly, Duroc, what has happened." But before the general could leave the room, a wounded officer rushed in, his clothes covered with the marks of recent fire. " The Sappers, sire — the Sappers " " What of them ? " said the Emperor. " They've blown up the bridge, and the fourth corps are still in Leipsic." The next moment Napoleon w^as on his horse, sur- rounded by his staff", and galloping furiously towards the river. Never was a scene more awful than that which now presented itself there. Hundreds of men had thrown themselves headlong into the rapid river, where masses of burning timber w^ere falling on every side — horse and foot all mixed up in fearful confusion, struggled madly in the stream, mingling" their cries with the shouts of those who came on from behind, and who discovei'ed for the first time that the retreat was cut off". The Duke of Tarento crossed, holding by his horse's mane. Lauristou 272 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. bad nearly reached the bank, when he sunk to rise no more ; and Poniatowski, the chivalrous Pole, the last hope of bis nation, was scon for an instant, struggling •with the waves, and then disappeared for ever. Twenty thousand men, sixty great guns, and above two hundred waggons, were thus left in the power of the enemy. Few who sought refuge in flight ever reached the opposite bank, and for miles down, the shores of the Elster were marked by the bodies of French soldiei-s, who thus met their death on that fearful night. Among the disasters of this terrible retreat, was the fate of Reynier, of whom no tidings could be had, nor was it known whether he died in battle, or fell a prisoner into the hands of the enemy. He was the personal fi-iend of the Emperor, who in his loss deplored not only the brave and valorous soldier, but the steady adherent to his fortunes, through good and evil. No more striking evidence of the amount of this mis- fortune can be had, than the bulletin of Napoleon himself. That document, usually devoted to the expression of vain- glorious and exaggerated descriptions of the triumphs of the army — full of those highflown narratives by which the glowing imagination of the Emperor conveyed the deeds of his soldiers to the wondering ears of France, was now a record of mournful depression and sad reverse of fortune. " The French army," said he, " continues its march on Erfurt — a beaten army ; after so many brilliant successes, it is now in retreat." Every one is already acquainted with the disastrous career of that array, the greatest that ever marched from France. Each step of their return, obstinately contested against overwhelming superiority of force, however it might evidence the chivalrous spirit of a nation who would not confess defeat, brought them only nearer to their own frontiers, pursued by those whose countries they had violated, whose kings they had dethroned, whose liberties they had trampled on. The fearful Nemesis of war had come, the hour was arrived when all the wrongs they had wreaked on others wore to be tenfold inflicted on themselves — when the TEE RETREAT FROM LEIPSIC. 273 plains of that " belle France," of whicli they were so prond, were to be trampled beneath the feet of insulting conquerors — when the Cossack and the Hulan were to bivouac in that capital which they so arrogantly styled " the centre of European civilization." I need not dwell on these things, I will but ask you ta accompany me to Erfurt where the army arrived five days after. A court-martial was there summoned for the trial of Colonel Montfort, of the Engineers, and the party under his command, who, in violation of their orders, had prematurely blown up the bridge over the Elster, and were thus the cause of that fearful disaster, by which so many gallant lives were sacrificed, and the honour of a French army so grievously tarnished. Contrary to the ordinary custom, the proceedings of that court-martial were never made known ;* the tribunal* sat with closed doors, accessible only to the Emperor hira- Relf and the officers of his personal staff. On the fourth day of the investigation, a messenger was despatched to Bi-aunach, a distant outpost of the army, to bring up General Aubuisson, who, it was rumoured, was somehow implicated in the transaction. The general took his place beside the other prisoners, in the full uniform of his " grade." He wore on his breast the cross the Emperor himself had given him, and he carried at his side the sabre of honour he had received on the battle-field of Eylau. Still, they who knew him well remarked that his countenance no longer wore its frank and easy expression, while in his eye there was a restless, anxious look as he glanced from side to side, and seemed troubled and suspicious. An order, brought by one of the aides-de-camp of the- Emperor, commanded that the proceedings should not be opened that morning before his Majesty's arrival, and already the court had remained an hour inactive, when Napoleon entered suddenly, and saluting the members of the tribunal with a courteous bow, took his place at the head of the table. As he passed up the hall he threw one glance upon the bench where the prisoners sat; it * The Vicom te's assertion is historically correct. T 274 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. was short and fleeting, but there was one there who felt it in his inmost soul, and who in that rapid look read his own fate for ever. " General Aubuisson," said the President of the court- martial, " you were on duty with the peloton of your battalion on the evening of the 18th? " A short nod of the head was the only reply. " It is alleged," continued the President, " that a little after nine o'clock you appeared on the bridge over the Elster, and held a conversation with Colonel Montfort, the officer commanding the post; the court now desires that you will recapitulate the circumstances of that conversation, as well as inform it generally on the reasons of your presenting yourself at a post so remote from your duty ? " The general made no reply but fixed his eyes stead- fastly on the face of the Emperor, whose cold glance met his own, impassive and unmoved. " Have you heard the question of the court ? '' said the President, in a louder tone, " or shall 1 repeat it ? " The prisoner turned upon him a look of vacancy. Like one suddenly awakened from a frightful dream, he ap- peared struggling to remember something which no effort of his mind could accomplish. He passed his hand across his brow, on which now the big drops of sweat were standing, and then there broke from him a sigh, so low and plaintive, it was scai'cely audible. " Collect yourself. General," said the President, in a milder tone ; " we v/ish to hear from your own lips your account of this transaction." Aubuisson cast his eyes downwards, and with his hands firmly clasped, seemed to reflect. As he stood thus, his look fell upon the Cross of the Legion, which he wore on his bosom, and with a sudden stai-t he pressed his hand upon it, and drawing himself up to his full heiglit, exclaimed, in a wild and broken voice — " Silence! — silence a la mort ! " The members of the court-martial looked from one to the other in amazement, while, after a pause of a few minutes, the Pi'csidcnt repeated his question, dwelling patiently on each word, as if desirous to suit the troubled intellect of the prisoner. THE EETREAT FROM LEIPSIC. 275 '* You are asked," said he, " to remember why yoc appeared at the bridge of the Elster." *' Hush ! " replied the prisoner, placing his finger upon bis lips, as if to instil caution ; " not a word ! " " What can this mean ? " said the President, " his mind appears completely astray." The members of the tribunal leaned their heads over the table, and conversed for some moments in a low tone, after which the President resumed the interrogatory as before. " Que voulez-vous? " said the Emperor, rising, while a crimson spot on his cheek evinced his displeasure; " Que voulez-vous, IMessieurs ! do you not see the man is mad ?" " Silence ! " reitei-ated Aulmisson, in the same solcmu voice; "alamort — silence!" Thei^e could no longer be any doubt upon the question. From whatever cause proceeding, his intellects were shaken, and his reason gone. Some predominant impres- sion, some all-powerful idea, had usurped the seat of both judgment and memory, and he was a maniac. In ten days after, the General Aubuisson — the distin- guished soldier of the Republic, the "brave" of Egypt, and the hero of many a battle in Germany, Poland, and Russia— was a patient of Charcnton. A sad and melan- choly figure, wasted and withered like a tree reft by lightning, the wreck of his former self, he walked slowly to and fro ; and though at times his reason would seem to return free and unclouded, suddenly a dark curtain would appear to drop over the light of his intellect, and he would mutter the words, " Silence! silence a la mort ! " ^ and speak not again for several hours after. fe The Vicomte de Berlemont, from whom I heard this sad story, was himself a member of the court-martial on i the occasion. For the rest, I visited Paris about a fortnight after I heard it, and, determining to solve my doubts on a sub- ject of such interest, paid an eai-ly visit to Charenton. On examining the registry of the institution, I found the name of " Gustavo Guillaume Aubuisson, native of Dijon, aged thirty-two. Admitted at Charenton the 31st of October, 1813— Incurable." I 2 276 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. And on another page was the single line — " Aubuifson escaped from Charenton, June 16th, 1815 — supposed to have been seen at Waterloo on the 18th." One more era remains to be mentioned in this sad story. The old tower still stands, bleak and desolate, on the mountains of the Vesdre; but it is now uninhabited;, the sheep seek shelter within its gloomy walls, and herd in that spacious chimney. There is another change, too, but so slight as scarcely to be noticed — a little mound of earth, grass-grown, and covered with thistles, marks the spot where " Lazare the shepherd " takes his last rest. It is a lone and dreary spot, and the sighing night winds as they move over the barren heath seem to utter his last " consigne," and his requiem — " Silence ! silence a la Eiort!" CHAPTER XVIII. THE TOP OF A DILIGENCE. " SuMMA diligcntia," as we used to translate it at school, '' on the top of ihe diligence," I wagged along towards the Rhine — a weary and a lonely way it is. Indeed, I half believe a frontier is ever thus: a kind of natural barrier to ambition on cither side, where both parties stop shorti and say, AYell, there's no temptation there, anyhow ! Reader, hast ever travelled in the banquette of a dili- gence ? I will not ask you, fair lady; for how could you ever mount to that Ol3-inpus of trunks, carpet-bags, and hat-boxes ; but my whiskered friend with the cheroot yonder, what says he ? Never look angry, man, there was no oflence in my question ; better men than either of us have done it, and no bad place either. First, if the weather be fine, the view is a glorious thing ; you are not limited, like your friends in the coupe, to the sight of the conducteur's gaiters, or the leather disc of tVie postilion's " continuations." No. Your eye ranges aN\ayat either side over those undulating plains •IHE TOP OF A DILIGENCE. 277 winch i}.e Coutineut presents, uiibroken by fence or liedge-row; vast corn-fields, great waving woods, inter- minable tracts of j-ellowish pasture land, with liere and there a village spire, or the pointed roof of some chateau rising above the trees. A yellow-earthy by-road tra- verses tlie plain, on whicli a heavy waggon jjlods along, the o.ght huge horses stepping as free as though no weight restrained them; their bells are tinkling in the clear air, and the merry chant of the waggoner chimes in pleasantly with them. It is somewhat hard to fancy how the land is ever tilled ; you meet few villages ; scarcely a house is in sight : yet there are the fragrant fields, the yellow gold of harvest tints the earth, and the industry of man is seen on every side. It is peaceful, it is gi-and, too, from its \Qry extent; but it is not " homolike." No. Our own happy land alone possesses that attribute. It is the country of the hearth and home. The traveller in France or Germany catches no glances as he goes of the rural life of the proprietors of the soil. A pale white chateau, seemingly uninhabited, stands in some formal lawn, where the hot sun darts down his rays unbroken, and the very fountain seems to hiss with heat. No signs of life are seen about, all is still and calm, as though the moon were shedding her yellow lustre over the scene. Oh ! how I long for the merry school-boy's laugh, the clatter of the pony's canter, the watch-dog's bark, the squire's self breathing the morning air amid his woods, that tell of England. How I fancy a peep into that large ■drawing-room, whose windows open to the greensward, letting in a view of distant mountains, and far-receding foreground, through an atmosphere heavy with the rose and the honeysuckle. Lovely as is the scene, with foliage tinted in every hue, from the light sprayey hazel to the dull pine or the dark copper beech ; how I prefer to look within where tJiri/ are met who call this " home," and v/hat a Paradise is such a home ! — but I must think no more of these things. I am a lone and solitary man, my happiness is cast in a different path, nor shall I mar it by longings which never can be realized. While I sat thua musing, my companion of the banquette, of whom I haa hitherto seen nothing but a blue cloth cloak and a tra- 278 THE ADVENTURES OF AETHUR o'lEART. vclliug-cap, came slap do\YU on mo with a snort tLat choked liim, and aroused me. " I ask your pardon, sir," said he in a voice that be- tra3-ed Middlesex most culpably. " Je suis — that is, " N"ever mind, sir; English will answer every purpose,'* cried T. " You have had a sound sleep of it." " Yes, heaven be praised ! I get over a journey as well as most men. Where are we now — do you happen to know ?" " That old castle yonder, I suspect, is the Alton Burg," said I, taking out my guide-book and directory. " The Alton Burg was built in the year 1384, by Carl Ludwig Graf von Lowenstein, and is not without its historic associations " " D — n its historic associations," said my companion, with an energy that made me start. '' I wish the devil and his imps had carried away all such trumpery, or kept them to torture people in their own hot climate, and left ns free here. I ask pardon, sir — I beseech you to forgive my warmth ; you would if you knew the cause, I'm certain." I began to suspect as much myself, and that my neigh- bour, being insane, was in no wise responsible for his opinions ; when he resumed — " Most men are made miserable by present calamities : some feel apprehensions for the future; but no one ever suffered so much from either as I do from the past. No^ sir," continued he, raising his voice, " I have been made nnhappy from those sweet souvenirs of departed great- ness guide-book people and tourists gloat over. The very thought of antiquity makes me shudder ; the name of Charlemagne gives mo tlie lumbago ; and I'd run a mile from a conversation about Charles the Bold, or Philip van Artevelde. I see what's passing in your mind ; but you're all wrong — I'm not deranged, not a bit of it — thougli, faith, I might be, without any shame or dis- grace." The caprices of men, of Englishmen in particular, ha^ long ceased to surprise me; each day disclosed some new eccentricity or other. In the very last hotel I had left a THE TOP OF A DILIGENCE. 279 tnember of Parliament planning a new route to the Rliine — avoiding Cologne ; because in the cuiree-room of the Grossen llheinberg there was a double door, that every- body banged when he went in or out, and so discomposed the honoux'able and learned gentleman, that he was laid tip for three weeks with a fit of gout, brought on by pure passion at the inconvenience. I had not long to wait for the explanation in this case. My companion appeared to think he owed it to himself to " show cause why " he was not to be accounted a lunatic, and after giving me briefly to understand that his means enabled him to retii'e from active pursuits and enjoy his ease, he went on to recount that he had come abroad to pass the remainder of his days in peace and tranquillity — but I shall let him tell his own story in his own words. " On the eighth day after 7ny arrival at Brussels, I told my wife to pack up ; for, as Mr. Thysens, the lawyer, who promised to write before that time, had not done so, we had nothing to wait for. We had seen Waterloo, visited the Mu&ee, skated about in listen slippers, through the- Palais d'Oiange, dined at Dubos's, ate ice at Velloni's, bought half the old lace in the Rue de la Madelaine, and almost caught an ague in the Allee Verte. This was, certainly, pleasure enough for one week ; so I ordered my bill, and prepared 'to evacuate Flanders.' Lord help us, what beings we are ! Had I gone down to the raih-oad by the Boulevards, and not by the Montague de la Cour, what miseries might I not have been spared. Mr. Thy- sens' clerk met me, just as T emerged from the Place Royale, with a letter in his hand. "I took it — opened — and read: — " • Sir,^ — I have just completed the pm-chase of the beautiful Chateau of Vanderstradentendonk, with all its gardens, orchards, pheasantries, piscince, prairies, and forest rights, which are now your property-. Accept my most respectful congratulations upon your acquisition of this magnificent seat of ancient grandeur, rendered doubly precious by its having been once the favourite residence and chateau of the great Vandyck.' " Here followed a long encomium upon Rubens and his school, which I did not half relish, knowing it was charged 280 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUn o'lEARY. to me in my account; tlie whole winding up with a press- ing recommendation to hasten down at once to tako possession, and enjoy the partridge shooting, then in great abundance. " ]My wife was in ecstasy to be the Frow Vanderstra- dcntendoiik, with a fish-pond before the door, and twelve gods and goddesses in lead around it. To have a brace of asthmatic peacocks on a terrace, and a dropsical swan on an island, were strong fascinations ; not to speak of the straight avenues leading nowhere, and the winds of heaven blowing everywhere. A house with a hundred and thirty windows, and half as many doors, none of which would shut close; a garden, with no fruit but crab-apples ; and a nursery, so culled, because the play-ground of all the brats for a league round us. No matter, I had resolved to live abroad for a year or two ; one place would do just as well as another ; at least, I should have quietness ; that was something : there was no neighboui'hood, no town, no high road, no excuse for travelling acquaintances to drop in, or rambling tourists to bore one with lettei'S of introduction. Thank God ! there was neither a battle- field, a cathedral, a picture, nor a great living poet, for ten miles on every side. " Here, thought I, I shall have that peace Piccadilly cannot give. Cincinnatus-like, I'll plant my cabbages, feed my turkeys, let my beard grow, and nurse my rental. Solitude never bored me ; I could bear anything but intrusive impertinence; and so far did I carry this feeling, that on reading Robinson Crusoe, I laid down the volume in disgust on the introduction of his man Friday. " It mattered little, therefore, that the couleur cle rose picture the lawyer had drawn of the chateau, had little existence out of his own florid imagination : the quaint old building, with its worn tapestries and faded furniture, suited the habit of my soul, and I hugged myself often in the pleasant reflection that my London acquaintances would be puzzling their brains for my whereabouts, with- out the slightest clue to my detection. Now, had I settled in Florence, Frankfort, or Geneva, what a life I must have led ! There is always some dear Mrs. Somebody going to THE TOP OF A DILIGENCE. 281 !ive in your neighbouvliood, ^vho begs you'll look out for a house for her: something very eligible; eighteen rooms well furnished, a southern aspect, in the best quarter ; a garden indispensable ; and all for some forty ])ounds a year: or some other dear friend who desires you'll find a governess, with more accomplishments than Malibrim, and more learning than Person, with the temper of five angels, and a ' vow in heaven ' to have no higher salary than a college bed-maker. Then there are the Thompsons pass- ing through, Avhom you have taken care never to know before ; but who fall upon you now, as strangers in a foreign land, and take the ' benefit ' of the ' Alien Act' in dinners at your house during their stay. 1 stop not to enumerate the crying wants of the more lately arrived resident, all of which are refreshed for your benefit; the recommendations to butlers who don't cheat, to moral music-masters, grave dancing-masters, and doctors who never take fees ; every infraction by each of these indi- viduals in his peculiar calling being set down as a just cause of complaint against yourself, requiring an animated correspondence in writing, and concluding with an abject apology and a promise to cut the delinquent that day, though you owe him a half-year's bill. " These are all pleasant — not to speak of the curse of disjointed society, ill-assorted, ill-conceived, unreasonable pretension, vulgar impertinence, and fawning toadyism on every side, and not one man to be found to join you in laughing at the whole thing, which would anqily repay one for any endurance. " No, thought I, I've had enough of this ! I'll try my bark in quieter waters, and though it's only a punt, yet I'll hold the sculls myself, and that's something. " So much for the self-gratulation I indulged in, as the old chaise de poste rattled over the heavy pavement, and drew up short at the portico of my future dwelling. My wife was charmed with the procession of villagers who awaited us on the steps, and, although an uglier pojiulation never trod their mother earth in wooden slippers, fancied she could detect several faces of great beauty and much interest in the crowd. I saw nothing but an indis(;riminace haze of cotton nightcaps, striped jackets, blouses, black 282 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. petticoats and sabots : so, pushing my way tlirougb them, I left the bazoon and the burgomaster, to the united delights of their music and eloquence, and, shutting the hall door, threw myself on a seat, and thanked Heaven that my period of peace and tranquillity was at length to begin. " Peace and tranquillity ! What airy visions ! Had I selected the post of cad to an omnibus, a steward to a Greenwich steamer, were I a guide to the Monument, or a waiter at Long's, my life had been one of dignified repose, in comparison with my present existence. " I had not been a week in the chateau, when a travelling Englishman sprained his ankle, within a short distance of the house. As a matter of course he was brought there, and taken every care of for the few days of his sta}^ He was fed, housed, leeched, and stuped, and when at lengtli he proceeded upon his journey, was pro- fuse in his acknowledgments for the services rendered him ; and yet, what was the base return of the ungrateful man ? ... I have scarcely temper to record it. During the very moment when we were most lavish in our attention to him, he was sapping the vciy peace of his benefactors. He learned from the Elemish servants of the house that it had formerly been the favourite residence of Vandyck ; that the very furniture then there was unchanged since his time ; the bed, the table, the chair he sat on were all preserved. The wretch — am I not warranted in calling him so ? — made notes of all this, and before I had been three weeks in my abode, out came a ' Walk in Flanders,' in two volumes, with a Avhole chapter about me, headed ' Chateau de Vandyck.' . . . There we were, myself and my wife, in every window of the Row — Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, Brown, Green, and Blue, had bought us at a price, and paid for us : there we were — we, who courted solitude and retirement, to be read of by every puppy in the West End, and every apprentice in Cheapside. Our hospitality was lauded, as if I kept open house for all comers, with ' hot chops and brown gravy' at a moment's notice. The antiquary was bribed to visit me by the fascinations of a spot, 'sacred to the revci'ics of genius;* the sportsman, by the account of my ' preserves ;' the THE TOP OF A DILIGENCE. 283 idler, to say he had been there ; and the guide-book- maker and historical biographer, to vamp up det;iils for a new edition of ' Belgium as it was,' or ' Vandyck and his Contemporaries.' " From the liour of the publication of that horrid book I never enjoyed a moment's peace or ease. The whole tide of my travelling countrymen — and what a flood it is ! — came pouring into Ghent. Post horses could not be found sufficient for half the demand ; the hotels were crowded ; respectable peasants gave up their daily employ to become guides to the chateau ; and little busts of Vandyck were hawked about the neighbourhood by children of four years old. The great cathedral of Ghent — Van Scamp's pictui-es — all the historic remains of that ancient city, were at a discount ; and they who formerly exhibited them, as a livelihood, were now thrown out of bi'ead. Like the dancing-master vv'ho has not gone up to Paris for the last ' pirouette,' or the physician who has not taken up the stethoscope, they were i-eputed old-fashioned and passe; and, if they could not describe the Chateau de Vandyck, were voted among the bj-gones. "The impulse once given, there was no stopping; the current was irresistible ; the double lock on the gate of the avenue, the bulldog at the hall door, the closed shut- ters, the cut-away bell-rope, announced a firm resolution in the fortress not to surrender ; but we Avere taken by assault, escaladed, and starved out in turns. " Scai'cely was the tea-urn on the breakfast-table, when they began to pour in ; old and young, the halt, the one- eyed, the fat, the thin, the melancholy, the meriy, the dissipated, the dyspeptic, the sentimental, the jocose, the blunt, the ceremonious, the courtly, the rude, the critical, and the free and easy : one came forty miles out of his way, and pronounced the whole thing an imposition, and myself a ' humbug ; ' another insisted upon my getting up at dinner, that he might sit down in my chair, char- acterized by the confounded guides as ' le fauteuil de Vandyck ; ' a third went so far as to propose lying down in our great four-post bed, just to say he had been there, though my wife was then in it. I sjieak not of the miserable practice of cutting slices ofl' all the furniture as 284 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. relics. Jolin Murray took an inventory of the whole con- tents of the house for a new edition of his Guide-book: nud llolman, the blind traveller, /^/^ me all over with hia liand as I sat at tea with my wife; and last of all, a respectable cheesemonger from the Strand, after inspecting the entire building from the attics to the cellar, pressed sixpence into my liand at parting, and said, ' Hapjiy to see you, Mr. Vandyck, if you come into the City !' " Then the advice and counsel I met with, oral and written, would fill a volume, and did ; for I was compelled to keep an album in the hall for the writers' names. " One suggested that my desecration of the temple of genius would be less disgusting if I dined in my kitchen, and left the ancient dining-room as the great artist had left it. " Another hinted that my presence in my own house destroyed all the illusion of its historic associations. " A third, a young lady — to judge by the writing — pro- posed my wearing a point beard and lace ruffles, with trunk hose and a feather in my hat, probably to favour tlie ' illusion ' so urgently mentioned by the last wi-iter, and, perhaps, to indulge visitors like my friend the cheese- monger. "Many pitied me — well might they! — as one insensible to the associations of the spot ; while my very servants, regarding me only as a show part of the establishment, neglected their duties on every side, and betook themselves to ciceroneship, each allocating his peculiar territory to himself, like the people who show the lions and the armour in tlie Tower. " No weather was either too hot or too cold, too sultry or too boisterous, no hour too late or too early, no day was sacred. If the family were at prayers, or at dinner, or at breakfast, or in bed, it mattered not? they had como many miles to see the chateau, and see it they would. "'Alas!' thought I, ' if, as some learned persons sup- pose, individuals be recognizable in the next world, what a melancholy time of it will be yours, poor Vandyck ! If tiiey make all this hubbub about the house 3'ou lived in, what will they do about your fleshy tabernacle ?' " As the seuscn advanced, the crowds increased, and as THE TOP or A DILIGENCE. 285 antumn "began, the conflicting currents to anj from tlio Rhine all met in my bedroom. There took place all the rendezvous of Europe. Runaway daughters there first repented in papa's arms, and profligate sons promised amendment for the future. Myself and my wife were passed by unnoticed and disregarded amid this tumult of recognition and salutation. We were emaciated like skeletons; our meals we ate when we could, like soldiers on a retreat ; and we slept in our clothes, not knowing at what moment the enemy might be upon us. Locks, bolts, and bars were ineffectual ; our resistance only increased curiosity, and our garrison was ever open to bribery. " It was to no purpose that I broke the windows to lefc in the north wind and acute rheumatism : to little good did I try an alarm of fire every day about two, when the house was fullest; and I failed signally in terrifying my torturers when I painted the gardener's wife sky-blue, and had her placed in the hall, with a large label over the bed, ' collapsed cholera.' Bless your heart ! the tourist cares for none of these ; and I often think it would have saved English powder and shot to have exported half a dozen of them to the East for the siege of Seringapatam. Had they been only told of an old picture, a tea-pot, a hearth-brush, or a candlestick that once belonged to God- frey de Bouillon or Peter the Hermit, they would have stormed it under all the fire of Egypt! Well, it's all over at last, human patience could endure no longer. We escaped by night, got away by stealth to Ghent, took post horses in a feigned name, and fled from the Chateau de Vandyck, as from the plague. Determined no longer to trust to chances, I have built a cottage myself, which has no historic associations further back than six weeks ago ; and fearful even of being known as the ci-devant possessor of the chateau, never confess to have been in Ghent in my life, and if Vandyck be mentioned, ask if he is not the postmaster at Tervueren. " Here, then, I conclude my miseries. I cannot tell what may be the pleasure that awaits the live ' lion,' but I envy no man the delights that fall to his lot who inhabits the den of the dead one." 286 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY, CHAPTER XIX. BONN AND STUDENT LIFB. When I look at the licading of this chapter, and read there the name of a little town upon the Rhine — which, doubtless, there is not one of my readers has not visited — and reflect on how ^vorn the track, how beaten the path, I have been guiding them on so long, I really begin to feel somewhat faint-hearted. Have we not all seen Brussels and Antwerp, Waterloo and Quatre Bras ? Are we not acquainted mth Belgium, as well as we are with Middlesex — don't we know the whole country, from its cathedrals down to Sergeant Cotton— and what do we want with Mr. O'Leary here ? And the Rhine — bless the dear man ! — have we not steamed it up and down in every dampschiffe of the rival companies ? The Drachcnfels and at. Goar, the Caub and Bingen, arc familiar to our e^'es as Chelsea and Tilbury Fort. True, all true, mesdames and messieurs — I have been your fellow-traveller myself I have watched you pattering along, John Murray in hand, through every narrow street and ill-paved square, conversing with your commissionaire, in such French as it pleased God, and receiving his replies in equivalent English. I have seen you at table dliote, vainly in search of what you deemed eatable — hungry and thirsty in the midst of plenty ; I have beheld you yawning at the opera, and grave at the Vaudeville; and I knew you wei-e making your summer excursion of pleasure, " doing your BeU;ium and Germany," like men who would not be behind their neighbours. And still, with all tliis fatigue of sea and land — this rough-riding and railroading — tliis penance of short bed, and shorter board — though you studied your handbook from the Scheldt to SchafThausen, you came Ijack with little more knowledge of the Con- tinent than when you left home. It is true, your son Thomas, that lamb-like scion of your stock, with light eyes and hair, has been initiated into the mysteries of rourje- BONN AND STUDENT LIFE. 287 etnoir and roulette \ " madame," your wife, has ob- tained a more extravagant sense of what is becoming in costume ; your daughter has had her mind opened to the fascinations of a French cscroc, or a " refugee Pole ; '' and you, yourself, somewhat the worse for your change of habits, have found the salads of Germany imparting a tinge of acidity to your disposition. These are, doubtless, valuable imports to bring back ; not the less so, that they are duty free. Yet, after all, "joy's recollection is no longer joy ; " and I doubt if the retrospect of your wan- derings be a repayment for their fatigues. It is one o'clock, and you can't do better than sit down to the table d'hote — call it breakfast, if your prejudices run high, and take your place. I have supposed you at "Die Sterne," "The Star," in the little square of the town — and, certes, you might be less comfortably housed. The cuisine is excellent, both French and German, and the wines delicious. The company, at first blush, might induce you to step back, under the impression that you had mistaken the salon, and accidentally fallen upon a military mess. They arc nearly all officers of the cavalry regiments garrisoned at Bonn, well-looking and well- dressed fellows — stout, bronzed, and soldier-like — and wearing their moustaches like men who felt hair on the upper lip a birthright. If a little too noisy and up- roarious at table, it proceeds not from any quarrelsome spirit — tlie fault, in a great measm-e, lies with the lan- guage. German, except spoken by a Saxon Madchen, invariably suggests the idea of a row, to an uninterested bystander; and if Goethe himself were to recite his ballads before an English audience, I'd venture long odds tliey'd accuse him of blasphemy. Welsh and Irish are soft zephyrs compared to it. A stray Herr baron or two — large, portly, responsible- looking men, with cordons at their button-holes, and pipe- sticks projecting from their breast-pockets ; and a sprink- ling of students of the higher class — it is too dear for the others — make up the party. Of course, there are Eng^lish — but my present business is not with them. By the time you have arrived at the " Rae-braten, with capers," which — on a fair average, taken in the months of 288 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. spring and summer — may be after about an hour and a half's diligent performance — you'll have more time to survey the partvi who by this time are clinking their glasses, and drinking hospitably to each other in cham- pagne — for there is always some newly returned comrade to be feted — or a colonel's birthday, or a battle, a poet, or some sentimentalism about the Rhine or the Fatherland, to be celebrated. Happy, joyous spirits, removed equally from the contemplation of vast wealth, or ignominious poverty ! The equality so much talked of in France is- really felt in Grermany, and, however the exclusives of Berlin and Vienna, or the still more exalted coteries of Baden or Darmstadt, rave of the fourteen quarterings, which give the entree to their salons, the nation has no sympathy with -these follies. The unaffected, simple- minded, primitive German has no thought of assuming* an air of distance to one his inferior in rank : and I have myself seen a sovereign prince take his place at table dhote, beside the landlord, and bob-nob with him, cor- dially, during dinner. I do not mean to say that the German has no respect for rank ; on the contrary, none more than he looks up to aristocracy, and reveres its privileges ; but he does s» from its association with the greatness of his Fatherland. The great names of his nobles recall those of the heroea and sages of whom the traditions of the country bear record — they are the watchwords of German liberty, or German glory — they are the monuments of which he feela proudest. His reverence for their descendants is not tinged with any vulgar desire to be thought their equal or their associate — far from it, he has no such yearnings. His own position could never be affected by anything iu theirs. The skipper of the fi.shing-cra(t might join convoy with tlic great fleet — but he knows that he only com- mands a shallop after all. And this, be it remarked, is a very different feeling from what we occasionally see, nearer liome. 1 have seen a good deal of studeut-life iui Germany, and never witnessed anything approaching that process so significantly termed " tuft-hunting" witli us ; perhaps it may be alleged in answer, that rank and i-iches, so generally allied in this couutry, are not so there ; and, BONN AND STUDENT LIFE, 289 consequently, much of what t-he world deems the pres- tige of condition, is wanting to create that respect. Doubtless this is, to a certain extent, true; but I have seen the descendants of the most distinguished houses in Germany mixing with the students of a very humble walk, on terms the most agreeable and fiiniiliar — assuming nothing themselves, and, certainly, receiving no marks of peculiar favour or deference from their companions. When one knows something of German character, this does not surprise. As a people, highly imaginative and poetic in temperament — dreamy and contemplative — ialling back rather on the past than facing the future — they are infinitely more assailable by souvenirs than pro- mises ; and in this wise, the ancient fame of a Hohen- Btauffen has a far firmer hold on the attachment of a Prussian, than the hopes he may conceive from his suc- cessor. It was by recalling to tlie German youth the once gloi-ies of the fatherland, that the beautiful Queen of that country revived the drooping spirit of the nation. It was over the tomb of the Great Frederick the monarch swore to his alliance with Alexander, against the invading legions of France. The songs of Uhland and Goethe, the lyrics of Burgher and Korner, have their source and spirit in the heartfelt patriotism of the people. The great fea- tures of the land, and the more striking traits of national character, are inextricably woven in their writings, as if allied to each other ; and the Rhine, and the male energy of German blood, their native mountains, and their native virtues, are made to reciprocate with one another ; and thus the eternal landmarks of Germany are consecrated as the altars of its faithfulness and its truth. The students are a means of perpetuating these notions. The young German is essentially romantic. A poet and ft patriot, his dreams are of the greatness of his fatherland —of its high mission among the nations of Europe ; and however he may exaggerate the claims of his country, or over-rate his own efforts in her cause, his devotion is a noble one ; and, when sobered down by experience and years, gives to Germany that race of faithful and high- souled people — the best guardians of her liberty, and the most attached defenders of her soil. U 290 THE ADTENTUltES OF ARTHUR o'LEARr. A great deal of onouvaise plaismitcrie lias been expended by French and English authors on the subject of the German student. The theme was perhaps an inviting one. Certainly nothing was easier than to ridi- cule absurdities in their manner, and extravagancies in their costume. Their long pipes and their long beards — their long skirts, and long boots, and long sabres — their love of beer, and their law-code of honour, Russell, in his little work on Germany — in many respects the only English book worth reading on that country — has been most unjustly severe upon thcra. As to French authors, one never expects truth from them, except it slip out, unconsciously, in a work of fiction. Still, they have dis- played a more than common spirit of detraction when speaking of the German student. The truth is, they cannot forget the part these same youths performed, in repelling tlic French invasion of their country. The spirit evoked by Korncr, and responded to from the Hartz to the Black Forest, was the death-note to the dominant tyranny of France. The patriotism which in the Basque provinces called into existence the wild Guerillas, and in the Tyrol created the Jjiger-bund ; in more cultivated Germany elicited .that race of poets and warriors whose war-songs aroused the nation from its sleep of slavery, and called them to avenge the injuries of their nation. Laugh, then, if you will, at the strange figures, whoso uncouth costumes of cap and jack-boot bespeak them a hybrid between a civilian and a soldier. The exterior is, after all, no bad tj'pe of what lies within — its contradic- tious are indeed scarcely as great. The spectacles and moustaches — the note-book beneath tlie arm, and the sabre at tlie side— the ink-bottle at the buttonhole, and the spurs jingling at the heels — are all the outward signs of that extraordinary mixture of patient industry and hot- headed enthusiasm — of deep thought and impetuous rash- ness — of mattei'-of-fact shrewdness and poetic fervour, and, lastly, of the most forgiving temper, allied to an uncon- querable propensity for duelling. Laugh if you will at him — Init he is a fine fellow for all that ; and despite all the contrarieties of his nature, has the seed of those virtues which, in the peaceful life of his native country. STUDENT LIFE. 291 grow np into the ripe fruits of manly truth and honesty. I wish you then to think well of the Bursche, and for- give the eccentricities into which a college life, and a most absurd doctrine of its ordinances, will now and then lead him. That wild-looking youth, for all that he has a sabrc- wound across his cheek, and wears his neck bare, like a Malay — despite his savage moustache and his lowering look, has a soft heart, though it beats behind that mass of nonsensical braiding. He could recite you, for hours long, the ballads of Schiller, and the lyrics of Uhland ; ah ! and sing for you, too, with no mean skill, the music of Spohr and Weber, accompanying himself the while on the piano, Avith a touch that would make your heart thrill ; and I am not sure that, even in his wildest moments of enthu- siastic folly, he is not nearly as much an object of hope to his country, as though he were making a "book" on the "Derby," or studying "the odds" among the legs at Tattersall's. Above all things, I would beg of you, don't be too hasty in judging him. Put not much trust in half what English writers lay to his charge — believe not one syllable of any Frenchman on the subject — no ! not even that estimable Alexandre Dumas, who represents the "Student" as demanding alms on the high-road — thus confounding him with the " Lehr- Junker" — tlie travelling apprentice — who, by the laws of Germany, is obliged to spend two years in wandering through different countries, before he is per- mitted to reside permanently in his own. The blunder would have been too gross for anything but a Frenchman and a Parisian ; but the Rue St. Denis covers a multitude of mistakes, and the Boulevard de Montmartre is a dis- pensation to all truth. Howitt, if you can read a heavy book, will tell you nearly everything a looJc can tell ; but setting a Quaker to describe Burschen life, was pi*etty much like sending a Hindoo to report at a county meeting. Now all this time we have been wandering; from Bonn, and its gardens, sloping down into the very Rhine, and its beautiful park, the once pleasure-ground of that palace which now forms the building of the TJniversitv. There U 2 292 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. are few sweeter spots than this. You have escaped from the loug, low swamps of Holland — you have left behind you the land of marsh and fog — and already the moun- tainous region of Germany breaks on the view : the Sieben Gebirge are in sight, and the bold Drachenfels, with its ruined tower on its summit — an earnest of the glorious scenery to come. The river itself looks brighter and fi'esher — its eddies seem to sparkle with a lustre they know not when circling along the swampy shores of Nimmegen. Besides, there is really something in a name, and the sound of " Deutschland " is pleasanter than that of the country of " dull fogs and dank ditches ; " and although I would not have you salute it, like Voltaire — "Adieu ! canaille — canards— canaux !" still be thankful for being where you are, take your coffee, and let us have a ramble through the Park. Alas ! the autumn is running into the winter — each breeze that sighs along the ground is the dirge over the dead leaves that lie strewn around us. The bare branches throw their gaunt arms to and fro as the cold grey clouds flit past. The student, too, has donned his fur-lined mantle, and strides along, with cap bent down, and hurried step. But a few weeks since and these alleys were crowded hj gay and smiling groups, lingering beneath the shadow ■of tall trees, and listening to the Jager band that played in yonder pavilion. The grey-haired professor moved slowly along, uncovering his venerable head as some student passed, and respectfully saluting him ; and there, too, walked his fair daughters, the " frauleins with the yellow hair!" How calmly sweet their full blue eyes! how gentleness is written in their quiet gait ! Yet, see ! as each bar of the distant waltz is heard beating on the ear, how their footsteps keep time and mark the measure. Alas ! the summer hours have fled, and with them those calm nights, when, by the flickering moon, the path- ways echoed to the steps of lingering feet now homeward turning. I never can visit a University town in Germany without STUDENT riFE. 299 a sigli after tlie time when I was myself a Bursclie, reafl myself to sleep each night with Ludwig Tieck, and sported two broadswords crosswise above my chimney. I was a student of Gottingen — the Georgia Augusta^ — and in the days I speak of — I know not well what King Ernest has done since — it was rather a proud thing to be " eiu Gottinger Bursche ; " there was considered some- thing of style to appertain to it above the other Universi- ties ; and we looked down upon a Heidelberger, or a Halle man as only something above a " Philister." The pro- fessors had given a great celebrity to the University too ; there was Stromeyerin chemistry, and Hausraan in philo- logy ; Behr in Greek ; Shrader in botany ; and, greater than all, old Blumenbach himself, lecturing four daj's each week on everything he could think of — natural philo- sophy, physics, geography, anatomy, physiology, optics, colours, metallurgy, magnetism, and the whale tishery in the South Seas — making the most abstruse and grave sub- jects interesting by the charm of his manner, and elevating trivial topics into consequence by their connection with weightier matters. He was the only lecturer I ever heai'd of who concluded his hour to the regret of his hearei-s, and left them longing for the continuation; anecdote and illustration fell from him with a profusion almost incon- ceivable and perfectly miraculous, when it is borne in mind that he rarely was known to repeat himself in a figure, and more rarely still in a story, and when he has detected himself in this latter he would suddenly stop short, with an " Ach Gott, I'm growing old," and imme- diately turn into another channel, and by some new and xinheard-of history, extiicate himself from his diflBculty. With all the learning of a Buffon and a Cuvier, he was simple and unaffected as a child. His little receptions in the summer months were held in his garden ; I have him before me this minute, seated under the wide- spreading linden tree, with his little table before him, holding his coffee and a few books ; his long hair, white as snow, escaping beneath his round cap of dark green velvet, falling loosely on his shoulders, and his large grey eyes, now widely opened with astonishment at some piece of intelligence a boy would have heard without amazement, 294 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. then twinkling with sly humoui' at the droll thoughts passing through his mind ; while around him sat his brother professors and their families, chatting pleasantly over the little news of their peaceful community — the good Vraus knitting and listening, and the Frauleius demurely sitting by, wearing a look of mock attention to some learned dissertation, and ever and anon stealing a sly glance at tlio handsome youth who was honoured by an invitation to the soiree. How charming, too, to hear them speak of the great men of the land as their old fx-iends and college companions ! It was not the author of " Wallenstein " and "Don Carlos," but Frederick Schiller, the student of medicine, as they knew him in his boyhood — bold, ardent, and ambitious — toiling along a path he loved not, and feeling -within him the working of that great genius which, one day, was to make him the pride of his fatherland; and Wieland — sti^ange and eccentric — old in his youth, with the innocence of a child and the "VN'isdom of a sage ; and Hoffman — the victim of his gloomy imagination, whose spectral shapes and dark warnings were not the forced eflToi-ts of his brain, but the com- panions of his wanderings — the beings of his sleep. How did they jest with him on his half-crazed notions, and laugh at his eccentricities. It was strange to hear them tell of going home with Hummel, then a mere boy, and how, as the evening closed in, he sat down to the piano- forte, and played and sung, and played again for hours long, now exciting their wonder by passages of brilliant and glittering effect, now knocking at their heai-ts by tones of plaintive beauty. There was a little melody he played the night they spoke of — some short and touching ballad — the inspiration of the moment — made on the approaching departure of some one amongst them, which, many years after in " Fidelio," called down thunders of applause ; mayhap the tribute of his first audience was a Bweeter homage after all. While tlius tliey chatted on, the great world without and all its mighty interests seemed forgotten by them. France might have taken another choleric fit, and been in march upon the Rhine ; England might have once more covered the ocean with her fleets, and scattered to the STUDENT LIFE. 295 ^vaves the wreck of another Trafalgar ; Russia miji^ht be pouring- down her liordes from the Don and Dnieper; little chance had they of knowinj^ aught of these tilings! The orchards that surrounded the ramparts shut out tlio rest of Europe, and they lived as remote from all the colli- sions of politics and the strife of nations as though tho University had been in another planet. I must not forget the old Hofrath Froriep, Ordentliche- Professor von — Heaven knows what. No one ever saw his collegium (lecture-room), no one ever heard him lecture. He had been a special tutor to the princes — as the Dukes of Cumberland aiid Cambridge were then called, about forty years ago — and he seemed to live upon the memory of those great days, when a " Royal Highness " took notes beside his chair, and when he addressed his class " Princes and Gentlemen ! " What pride he felt in his clasp of tho Gaelph, and an autograph letter of the " Herzog von Cla- rence,'' who once paid him a visit at his hoase in Gottingen! It was a strange thing to hear the royal family of England spoken thus of among foreigners, who neither knew our land,' nor its language. One was suddenly recalled to the recollection of that Saxon stock, from which our common ancestry proceeded — the bond of union between us — the soui'ce from which so many of the best traits of English character take their origin. The lovo of truth, the manly independence, the habits of patient industry which we derived from our German blood, are not inferior to the enterprising spirit and the chivalrous daring of Norman origin. But to return to the Hofrath, or Pi-ivy Councillor Froriep, for so was he most rigidly styled. I remember him so well as he used to come slowly down the garden- walk, leaning on his sister's arm. He was the junior by some years, but no one could have made the discovery now ; the thing rested on tradition, howevei', and was not disputed. The Fraulein Martha von Froriep was tho Daguerreotype of her brother. To see them sitting oppo- site each other was actually ludicrous ; not only were the features alike, but the expressions tallied so completely, it was as if one face reflected the other. Did the professor look grave — the Fraulein Martha's face was Rerious. Did 29G THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. he laup^li — straightway her features took a merry cast. If his coti'ee was too hot, or did he burn his fingers with his pipe, the old lady's sympathies were with him still. The Siamese twins were on terms of distant acquaintanceship, compared with the instinctive relation these -two boro each other. How was it possible, you will ask, that such an eternal similarity should have marked their dispositions ? The answer is an easy one. The Fraulein was deaf — perfectly destitute of hearing. The last recorded act of her auditory nerves was on the occasion of some public rejoicing, when, twenty-four large guns were discharged in a few seconds of time, and by the reverberation broke every window in Gottingen ; the old lady, who was knitting at the time> merely stopped her work and called out " Come in ! ** thinking it was a tap at the room-door. To her malady •was it then owing if she so perfectly resembled the pro- fessor, her brother. She Avatched him with an anxious eye; his face was the dial that regulated every hour of her existence ; and as the telegraph repeats the signal that is made to it, yet knows not the interpretation of the sign, BO did she signalize the passing emotions of his mind, long perhaps after her own could take interest in the cause. Nothing had a stranger effect, however, than to listen to the pi'ofessor's conversation, to which the assent of the deaf old laHy chimed in at short and regular intervals. For years long she had been in the habit of corroborating' everything he said, and continued the practice now from habit. It was like a clock that struck the hour when, all its machinery had run down. And so, whether the Hofrath descanted on some learned question of Greek particles, some much-disputed fact of ancient history, or, as was more often the case, narrated with German broad- ness some little anecdote of his student life, the old lady's " Ja ! ja ! den sah Ich, selbst, da ! war Ich, auch ! " " Yes, yes, I saw it myself; I was there, too," bore testimony ta the truth of Tacitus or Heredotus, or, more precarious still, to these little traits of her brother's 3-outhful exist- ence, which, to say the least, were as well un corroborated » The Hofrath had passed his life as a bachelor, a cir- cumstance which could not fail to surprise, for his stories STUDENT LIFE. 2'J7 were generally of his love adventures and perils ; and all teemed with dissertations on the great susceptibility of his heart, and his devoted admiration of female beauty — weaknesses of which it was plain he felt vain, and loved to hear authenticated by his old associates. In thia respect Blumenbach indulged him perfectly ; now recall- ing to his memory some tender scene, or some afflicting separation, which invariably drew him into a story. If these little reminiscences possessed not all the point and interest of more adventurous histories, to me, at least, they were more amusing by the force of truth, and by the singular look, voice, and manner of him who related them. Imagiue, then, a meagre old man, about five feet two, whose head was a wedge with the thin side foremost, the nose standing abruptly out, like the cut- water of a man-o'-war gig ; a large mouth, forming a bold semicircle, with the convexity downwards, the angles of which were lost in a mass of wrinkles on his withered cheeks ; two fierce-looking, fiery, little grey eyes set slant- wise in his head without a vestige of eyelash over them ; his hair, combed back with great precision, and tied behind into a queue, had, from long pulling, gradually drawn the eyebrows upwards to double their natural height, where they remained fixed, giving to this uncouth face an expression of everlasting surprise — in fact, he appeared as if he were perpetually beholding the ghost of somebody. His voice was a strange, unnatural, clattering sound, as though the machinery of speech had been left a long while without oiling, and could not work flippantly, but, to be sure, the language was German, and that may excuse much. Such was the Herr Hofrath Froriep ; once, if you were to believe himself, a lady-killer of the first water. Indeed, still, when he stretched forth his thin and twisted shanks, attired in satin shorts and black silk stockings, a gleam of conscious pride would light up his features, and he would seem to say to himself, " These legs might do some mis- chief yet." Caroline Pichler, the novelist, had been one of his loves, and, if you believed himself, a victim to his fascinations. However, another version of the tale had obtained cur 298 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. rency, aud was frequently alluded to by his companions at those moments when a more boastful spirit than they deemed suitable animated his discourse ; and at such times I remarked that the Hofrath became unusually sensitive, and anxious to change the subject. It was one evening, when we sat somewhat later than our wont in the garden, tempted by the delicious fragrance of the flowers and the mild light of a new moon, that at last the Hofrath's Wadchen made her appearance, lantern in hand, to conduct him home. She carried on her arm a mass of cloaks, shawls, aud envelopes that would have clothed a procession, with which she proceeded leisurely and artistically to dress up the professor and hia sister, until the impression came over the bystanders tliat none but she who hid them in that mountain of wearables would ever be able to discover them aofain. '' Ach Gott," exclaimed the llofrath, as she crowned liim with a quilted nightcap, whose jaws descended and fastened beneath the chin, like an antique helmet, leaving the miserable old face, like an uncouth pattern, in the middle of the Berlin embroidery — "Ach Gott, but for that!" " But for that ! " reiterated old Hausman, in a solemn tone, as if he knew the secret grief his friend alluded to, and gave him all his sympathy. *' Sit down again, Froriep," said Blumenbach ; "it is an hour too soon for young folk like us to separate. We'll have a glass of Ilosenthaler, and you shall tell us that etory." " Be it so," said the Hofrath, as he made signs to the iMiidchen that he would cast his skin. " Ich bin dabey ! I'm ready." " Wi' tippenny we fear nae evil, ^Vi' usquebaugh we'd face the devil," quoth Burns ; and, surely, Tam's knowledge of human nature took a wide circuit when he uttered the words. The whole philosophy of temptation is comprised in the distich, and the ad;ige of coming up "to a man's price" has no happier illustration ; and certainly, had the poet been a Bursche in Germany, he could not have conveyed the " sliding-scale " of professors' agrccability under a more STUDENT LIFE. 299 suitable formula. He, who would be civil Avith a pipe, becomes communicative with coffee, — brotherly with beer, — but opens every secret of his nature under the high- pressure power of a flask of Rhenish. The very smack of the Hofrath's lips, as he drained his glass to the bottom, and then exclaimed in a transport, " Er ist zum kissen, der Wein ! " announced that the folding-doors of his heart stood wide open, and that he might enter who would. " Roseuthaler was Goethe's favourite," quoth Stro- meyer ; " and he had a good taste in wine." "Your gTcat folk ever," said Hausmau, "like to show some decided preference to one vintage above the rest ; Kapoleon adopted Chambertin, Jo.seph the Second drank nothing but Tokav, and Peter the Great found brandy the only fluid to his palate." "A plague on their fancies," interrupted old Blumen- bach. " Let us have the story." "Ah! well, well," said the Hofrath, throwing up his eyes with an air of sentimentalism, " so you shall. ' Love's young dream ! ' was sweet, after all ! We were in the Hartz," continued he, at once springing into his story with a true Demosthenic abruptness — " we were in the Hartz mountains, making a little tour, for it was ' semestre,' and all the classes were closed in the University. There was Tieck, and Feldtbourg the Dane, and Upsal, and old Lan- gendorf of Jena, and Grotchen von Zobelschein, and Mina Upsal, and Caroline, and Martha there — she, poor thing, was getting deaf at the time, and could not take the same pleasure as the rest of us: she was always stupid, you know." Here he looked over at her, when she immediately responded, — " Ja, ja, Avhat he says is true." " Each morning we used to set off up the mountains, ' botanizing and hammering among the limestone rocks, and seeking for cryptogamia and felspar, lichens and jungermannia, and primitive I'ock; mingling our little diversions with pleasant talk about the poets, and reciting verses to one another from Hans Sachs and the old •writers, and chatting away about Schiller — the ' Lager ' was just come out, and more than one among us could scarcely believe it was Frederick did it. 800 THE ADVENTURES OP ARTHUR 0*LEARY. " Ticck and I soon found that we were rivals ; for heforo a week each of ns was in love with Caroline. Now, Lud- wig was a clever fellow, and had a thousand little v;ays of ingratiating himself with a pretty woman — and a poetess besides. He could come down every day to breakfast with some ode or sonnet, or maybe a dream ; and then he was read}- after dinner with his bit of poetry, which sometimes, when he found a piano, he'd set to music ; or maybe in the evening he'd invent one of those strange rigmarole stories of his, about a blue-bottle fly, dying for love of a white moth or some superannuated old drone bee, that retired from public life, and spent his days reviling the rest of the world. You know his nonsense well ; but, somehow, one could not help listening, and, what's worse, feeling interest in it. As for Caroline, she became crazed about gnats, and spiders, and fleas, and would hear for whole days long the stories of their loves and sorrows. " For some time I bore up as well as I could. There was a limit, Heaven be thanked, to that branch of the creation, and as he had now got down to millepedes, I trusted that before the week was over he'd have reached mites — beyond which it was impossible he could be ex- pected to proceed. Alas ! I little knew the resources of his genius ; for one evening, when 1 thought him running fast aground, he sat down in the midst of us, and began a tale of the life and adventures of the Herr Baron von Beetroot, in search of his lost love, the Fraulein von Cucumber. This confounded narrative had its scene in an old garden in Silesia, where there were incidents of real beauty and interest interwoven, ay, and verses, that would make your heart thrill. Caroline could evidently resist no j longer. The Baron von Beetroot was ever uppermost in < her mind, and if she ate ' gurkin-salade,' it brought the ; tears into her eyes. In this sad strait, I wandered out alone one evening, and, without knowing it, reached the Rase !Miihle, near Oltdorf. There I went in and ordered a .supper; but they had nothing but ' Thick milk'* and ' Kalte-schade.' No matter, thought I; a man in such • Thick milk ; a mess of sour cream thickened with sugar and crumbs of bread. " Kaite-f;cliade," the same species of abomination, the oniy difference being beer, vice cream, for the fluid. STUDENT LIFE. 801 ^ief as mine need little care what he eats ; and I ordered both, that I might afterwards decide which l"d ]>refer. They came, and were placed before me. Himmel ! und Erde ! what did I do but eat the two ! beer and cream, cream and beer, pepper and sugar, brown bread and nut- meg ! Such was my abstraction, that I never noticed what I was doing till I saw the two empty bowls before me. *I am a dead Hofrath before day breaks,' said I, ' and I'll make my will ;' but before I could put the plan into execu- tion I became very ill, and they were obliged to carry me to bed. From that moment my senses began to wander ; exhaustion, sour beer, and despair, were all working within me, and I was mad. It was a brief paroxysm, but a fearful one. A hundred and fifty thousand ridiculous fancies went at racing speed through my mind, and I spent the night alternately laughing and crying. My pipe, that lay on the chair beside the bed, figured in nearly every scene, and performed a part in many a strange adventure. " By noon the others learned where I was, and came over to see me. After sitting for half an hour beside me, they were going away, when I called Caroline and Martha back. She blushed ; but, taking Martha's arm, she seated herself upon a sofa, and asked in a timid voice what I wished for. " ' To hear me before I die,' replied I ; ' to listen to a wonderful vision I have seen this night.' " * A vision,' said Caroline — ' oh, what was it ? ' " * A beautiful and a touching one. Let me tell it to you. I will call it, ' The never-to-be-lost-sight-of, though not- the-less-on-that-account- to-be-concealed. Loves of the Mug and the Meerschaum.' " Caroline sprang to my side as I uttered these words, and as she wiped the tears from, her eyes she sobbed forth, — " ' Let me but hear it — let me but hear it !' " ' Sit down,' said I, taking her hand and pressing it to my lips — ' sit down, and you shall.' With that I began my tale. I suppose," continued the Hofrath, " you don't wish to have the story ? " " Gott bewahr! Heaven forbid," broke in the -whole 302 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. company in a breatli. " Leave the Mug aud the Meer- schaum, and go on with Caroline." " Well, from that hour her heart was mine. Ludwig might call all the reptiles that ever crawled, every vege- table that ever grew, to his aid — the victory was with me. He saw it, and, irritated by defeat, returned to Berlin without bidding ns even farewell, and we never heard of him till we saw his new novel of 'Fortuuio.' But to go on ; the day after Tieck left us was my birth- day, and they all arranged to give me a little fete ; and truly nothing could be prettier. The garden of the inn was a sweet spot, and there was a large linden like this, where the table was spread ; and there was a chair all decked with roses and myrtle for me— Caroline herself had done it ; and they had composed a little hymn in honour of me, wherein were sundry compliments to my distinction in science and poesy — the gilts of my mind and the graces of my person. Ach, ja ! I was handsome then, " Well, well, I must close my tale — I cannot bear to think of it even now, Caroline came forward, dressed in white, with a crown of roses and laurel leaves intertwined, and approached me gracefully, as I sat waiting to receive lier — all the rest ranged on either side of me. * Auf seine stirne, wo, der licht- — ' * Upon tliat brow where shines the light * said Caroline, raising the chaplet. " ' Ach Du Heiliger ! ' screamed Martha, who only that instant saw I was bareheaded, ' the dear man will catch his death of cold ! ' and with that she snatched this con- founded nightcap from her pocket, and rushing forward, clapped it on my head before I could know it was done. : I struggled and kicked, like one possessed, but it was " of no use ; she had tied the strings in a black knot, and they could neither bo loosened nor broken. ' Be Ktill there,' said she ; ' thou knowest well that at fifty- three ' You can conceive," said the Hofrath in a parenthesis, " that her passion obliterated her memory.'* —•At fifty-three one can't play the fool like at twenty.'^ "Ach, ja! it was over with me for ever. Caroline STUDENT LIFE. 803 Rcroamed at the cap, first langliing, then crying, and then both — the rest nearly died of it, and so did I. Caroline would never look at me after, and I came back home, disappointed in my love — and all because of a woollen nightcap." When the Hofrath concluded, he poured the remainder of the Rosenthaler into his glass, and bowing to each in turn, wished us good night, while, taking the Fraulein j\Iartha's arm, they both disappeared in the shade, as the little party broke up and each wended his way homeward. CHAPTER XX. If I were not sketching a real personage, and retailing an anecdote once heard, I should pronounce the Hofrath von Floriep a fictitious character, for which reason I bear you no ill-will if you incline to that opinion. I have no wit- ness to call in my defence. There Avere bat two English- men in Gottingcn, in my day — one of them is now no more. Poor fellow ! he had just entered the army; his regiment was at Corfu, and he was spending the six months of his first leave in Germany. We chanced to be fellow-travellers, and ended by becoming friends. When he left me, it was for Vienna, from which, after a short stay, he departed for Venice, where he purchased a yacht, and with eight Greek sailors, sailed for a cruise through the Ionian Islands. He was never seen alive again ; his body, fearfully gashed and wounded, was dis- covered on the beach at Zante. His murderers, for such they were, escaped with the vessel, and never were cap- tured. Should any " 61st" man throw his eye over these pages he will remember that I speak of one beloved by every one who knew him. With all the heroic daring of the stoutest. heart, his nature was soft and gentle as a child's. Poor G ! some of the happiest riomeuts of 804 THE ADVENTUKES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. my life were spent with you — some of tlie saddest in thinking over your destiny. You must take my word for the Hofrath, then, good reader. They who read the modern novels of Germany — the wild exaggerations of Fouque and Hoffman, Museua and Tieck, will comprehend that the story of himself has no extravagance whatever. To ascribe language and human passions to the lower animals, and even to the in- animate creation, is a favourite German notion, the indul- gence of which has led to a great deal of that mysticism we find in their writings ; and the secret sympathies of cauliflowers and cabbages, for young ladies in love, is a constant theme among this class of novelists. A word now of the students, and I have done. What- ever the absurdities in their code of honour, however ludicrous the etiquette of the " comment," as it is called, there is a world of manly honesty and trueheartedness among them. There is nothing mean or low, nothing dishonourable nor unworthy in the spirit of the Burschen- schaft. Exaggerated ideas of their own importance — an overweening sense of their value to the Vaterland — there are in abundance, as well as a mass of crude, unsettled notions about liberty, and the regeneration of Germany. But, after all, these are harmless fictions ; they are not allied to any evil passions at the time — they lead to no bad results for the future. The murder of Kotzebue, and the attempt on the life of Napoleon by Staps, were much more attributable to the mad enthusiasm of the period than to the principles of the student league. The spirit of the nation revolted at the tyranny they had so long submitted to, and these fearful crimes were the agonized expression of endurance pushed to madness. Only they who witnessed the frantic joy of the people, when the tide of fortune turned against Napoleon, and his baffled legions retreated through Germany, on their return from the Russian campaign, can understand how deeply stored were the wrongs for which they were now to exact ven- geance. The "volker schlaght" — the "people's slaughter " — as they love to call the terrible fight of Leipsic, was the dreadful recompense of all their sufferings. When the French Revolution first broke out, the Ger- THE " STUDENT." 305 man students, like many wiser and more thinking heads than theirs, in our own country, wore struck with the great movement of a mighty people in their march to liberty ; but when, disgusted with the atrocities that followed, they afterwards beheld France the first to assail the liberties and trample on the freedom of every other country, they regarded her as a traitor to the cause she once professed ; and while their apathy, in the early wars of the republican armies marked their sympathy with the wild notions of liberty, of which Frenchmen affected to be the apostles in Europe — yet, when they saw the lust of conquest and the passion for dominion usurp the place of those high-sounding virtues — Liberie, ]£galUe, the reverse was a tremendous one, and may well excuse, if excuse were needful, the proud triumph of the German armies, when they bivouacked in the streets of Paris. The changed fortunes of the Continent have of course obliterated every political feature in the student life of Germany ; or, if such still exist, it takes the form merely of momentary enthusiasm, in favour of some banished professor, or a Burschen festival, in honour of some martyr of the press. Still their ancient virtues survive, and the German student is yet a type — one of the few remaining — of the Europe of thirty years ago. Long may he remain so, say I. Long may so interesting a land' have its national good faith and brotherly affection rooted in the minds of its youth. Long may the country of Schiller, of Wieland, and of Goethe, possess the race of those who can appreciate their greatness, or strive to- emulate their fame. I leave to others the task of chronicling their beer- orgies, their wild festivals and their duels ; and thougb not disposed to defend them on such charges, I might, ' were it not invidious, adduce instances, nearer hon^e, of practices little more commendable. At those same i'es- tivals, at many of which I have been present, I have heard music that would shame most of our orchestras, and listened to singing such as I have never heard surpassed, except within "the walls of a grand opera ; and as to tlieir duelling, the practice is bad enough, in all conscience, but still I would mention one instance, of which I myself 306 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. was a witness, and perhaps even in so little fertile a field we may find one grain of goodly promise. Among my acquaintances in Gottingen were two stu- dents, both Prussians, and both from the same small town of Magdebourg. They had been school-fellows, and came together to the University, where they lived toge- ther on terms of brotherly afi'ection, which, even there, where friendship takes all the semblance of a sacred com- pact, was the subject of remark. Xever were two men less alike, however, than these. Eisendecker was a bold, hot-headed fellow, fond of all the riotous excesses of Burschen life; his face, seamed with many a scar, declared him a " hahn," as, in stiadent phrase, a confirmed duellist is termed. He was ever foremost in each scheme of wild adventure, and continually brought up before the senate on some charge of insubordination. Von Miihry, his companion, was exactly the opposite. His sobriquet — for nearly every student had one — was " der Zahme — the gentle," and never was any more appropriate. His dis- position was mildness itself. He was very handsome, almost girlish in his look, with large blue eyes, and fine, soft silky hair, which, German like, he wore upon his neck. His voice — the index of his nature — soft, low, and musical, would have predisposed you at once in his favour. Still, those disparities did not prevent the attach- ment of the two youths; on the contrary, they seemed rather to strengthen the bond between, — each, as it were, supplying to the other the qualities which nature had denied him. They were never separate in lecture-room, or at home, or in the olJeQ — as the promenade was called — or in the garden, where, each evening, the students resorted to sup, and listen to the music of the Jager band. Eisendecker and ^liiliry were names that no one ever heard separated, and when one appeared the other was never more than a few yards off. Such was their friendship when an unhappy incident occurred to trouble its even course, and sow dissension between these who never had known a passing difference in their lives. Tlie sub-rector of Gottingen was in the haliit f f giving little receptions every week, to Avhich many of the students were invited, and to which Eisen- THE " STUDENT." 807 decker and ^Miihry were frequently asked, fis they both belonged to the professor's class. In the quiet world of a little University town, these soirees were fjreat occasions, and the invited plumtd themselves not a little on the dis- tinction of a card which gave the privilege of bowing in the Herr profcssoi''s drawing-room, and kissing the hand of his fair daughter, the Frederica von Etteuheim, the belle of Gottingen. Frederica was the prettiest German girl I ever saw, for this reason, that having been partly educated at Paris, French esj)iefflerte relieved what had been, otherwise, the too regular monotony of her Saxon features, and imparted a character of sauciness — or *'Jier/e " is a better word — to that quietude which is too tame to give the varied expression, so charming in female beauty. The esp7'it, that delicious ingredient which has been so lamentably omitted in German character, she had imbibed from her French education ; and in lieu of that plodding interchange of flat commonplaces which consti- tute the ordinary staple of conversation between the young of opposite sexes beyond the Rhine, she had imported the light, delicate tone of Parisian raillery — the easy and familiar gaiety of French society, so inexpressibly charm- ing in France, and such a boon from heaven, when one meets it by accident, elsewhere. Now, of all tongues ever invented by man, German is the most difficult and clumsy, for all purposes of conversation. You may preach in it — you may pray in it — you may hold a learned argument, or you may lay down some involved and intricate statement — you may, if you have the gift, even tell a story in it, provided the hearers be patient — and some have gone so far as to venture on expressing a : humorous idea in German ; but these have been bold ' men, and their venturous conduct is more to be admired ! than imitated. At the same time, it is right to add, that ' a German joke is a very wooden contrivance at best, and that the praise it meets with, is rather in the proportion of the difficulty of the manufacture, than of the superi- ority of the article — ^just as we admire those Indian toys carved with a rusty nail, or those fourth-string perform- ances of Paganini and his followers. And now to come back to the students, whom, mayhap, X 2 808 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEART. you deem to have been forgotten by me all this time, but for whose peculiar illustration my digression was in- tended ; it being neither more nor less than to show thaij- if Frederica von Ettenheim turned half the heads in Gottingen, Messrs. Eisendecker and Miihry were of th& number. What a feature it was of the little town, her coming to reside in it ! What a sweet atmosphere of womanly gracefulness spread itself, like a perfume,, through those old salons, whose dusty curtains and moth- eaten chairs looked like the fossils of some antediluvian furniture ! With what magic were the old ceremonials of a professor's reception exchanged for the easier habits of a politer world! The venerable dignitaries of the Univer- sity felt the change, but knew not where it lay, and could not account for the pleasure they now experienced in the- vice-rector's soirees ; while the students knew no bounds to the enthusiastic admiration; and "Die Ettenheim'*' reigned in every heart in Gottingen. Of all her admirers, none seemed to hold a higher place in her favour than Von Miihry. Several causes, contributed to this, in addition to his own personal ad- vantages, and the distinction of his talents, which were- of a high order. He was particularly noticed by the vice-rector, from the circumstance of his father holding a, responsible position in the Prussian government, while Adolphe himself gave ample promise of one day making a figure in the world. He was never omitted in any in- vitation, nor forgotten in any of the many little parties so frequent among the professors ; and even where the society was limited to the dignitaries of the college, some excuse would ever be made by the vice-rector, to have him present, either on the pretence of wanting him for some- thing, or that Frederica had asked him without thinking. Such was the state of this little world, when I settled in it, and took up my residence at the Meissner Thor, intending to pass my summer there. The first evening I ppent at the vice-rector's, the matter was quite clear to my eyes. Frederica and Adolphe were lovers. It was to no purpose, that when he had accompanied her on the ])iaiio he retreated to a distant part of the room, when blie ceased to sing. It signified not, that he scarcely ever THE " STUDENT. 300 ■Bpoke to her, and when he did, but a few -worc/s, hur- riedly and in confusion. Their looks met once; I saw them exchange one glance — a fleeting one, too — but I read in it their whole secret, mayhap even more than they knew themselves. Well had it been, if I alone had witnessed this, but there was another at my side who ' saw it also, and whispered in my ear, " Der Zahme is in love." I turned round — it was Eisendecker : his face, sallow and sickly, while large circles of dark olive sur- rounded his eyes, and gave him an air of deep sufl'ering. " Did you see that? " said he suddenly, as he leaned his •hand on my arm, where it shook like one in ague. " Did you sec that?" "What?— the flower?" " Yes — the flower. It was she dropped it, when she crossed the room. You saw him take it up — didn't you?" The tone he spoke in was harsh, and hissing, as if he Tittered the words with his teeth clenched. It was clear to me now, that he, too, was in love with Frederica, and I trembled to think of the cruel shock their friendship must sustain ere long. A short time after, when I was about to retire, Eisen- decker took my arm, and said, " Are you for going home ? May I go with you?" I gave a willing assent, our lodgings being near, and we spent much of every day in each other's chambers. It was the first time we had 'ever returned without waiting for Miihry ; and fearing what a separation, once begun, might lead to, I stopped suddenly on the stairs, and said, as if suddenly remembering, — ■ " By the bye, we ai'e going without Adolphe." Eisendecker's fingers clutched me convulsively, and ■while a bitter laugh broke from him, he said, " You ■wouldn't tear them asunder — would you ? " For the rest of the way, he never spoke again, and I, fearful of awaken- ing the expression of that grief, which, when avowed, became confirmed, never opened my lips, save to say — *' Good-night." I never intended to have involved myself in a regular story when I began this chapter, nor must I do so now, though, sooth to say, it would not be without its interest, 810 THE ADVENTURES OF ATITHUR o'lEARY. to trace the career of tliese two youth?, who now became gradually estranged from each other, and were no longer to be seen, as of" old, walking with arms on each other's shovilder — the most perfect realization of true brotherly affection. Uay by day the distance widened between them ; each knew the secret of the other's heart, yet neither dared to speak of it. From distrust iLere is lout a short step to dislike — alas I it is scarcely even a step. They parted. Another change came over them, and a stranger still. Eisendecker, the violent youth, of ungovernable temper, and impetuous passion — who loved the wildest freak of student-daring, and ever was the first to lead the way in each mad scheme — had now become silent and thoughtful • — a gentle sadness tempei'ed down the fierce traits of his Lot nature, and he no longer frequented his old haunts of the cellar and the fighting school, but wandered alone into the country, and spent whole days in solitude. Yon Miihry, on the other hand, seemed to have assumed the castaway mantle of his onco friend : the gentle bearing, and almost submissive tone of his manner, were exchanged for an air of conscious pride — a demeanour that bespoke a triumphant spirit — and the quiet youth suddenly seemed changed to a rash, high-spirited boy, reckless from very happiness. During this time, Eisendecker had attached himself particularly to me ; and although I had always hitherto preferred Von Miihry, the feeling of the other's, unhappiness — a sense of compassion for suffering, which it was easy to see was great — drew me closer in my friend- ship towards him ; and, at last, I scarcely saw Adolphe at all — and when wo did meet, a mutual feeling of embar- rassment separated and estranged us from each other. About this time I set off on an excursion to the Hartz. Mountains, to visit the Brocken, and see the mines ; my absence, delayed beyond what I first intended, was above- four weeks, and 1 returned to Gottingcii, just as tho summer vacation was about to begin. About five leagues from Goitingen, on the road towards Nordheim, there is a little village called Meissner, a favourite resort of the students, in all their festivals — while, at something less than a mile distant, stands a THE " STUDENT. ' 811 tvater-mill, on a little rivulet among the liills — a wild, sequestered spot, overgrown with stunted oak and brush- wood. A narrow bridle-path leads to it from the village, and this was the most approved place for settling all those affairs of honour whose character was too serious to make it safe to decide nearer the University ; for, strangely enough — while, by the laws of the University, duelling was rigidly denounced, yet, whenever the quarrel was decided by the sword, the authorities never, or almost never, interfered — but if a pistol was the weapon, the thing at once took a more serious aspect. For what reasons the mills have been always selected, as the appropriate scenes for such encounters, I never could discover; but the fact is unquestionable — and I never knew a University town that did not possess its " water privileges " in this manner. Towards the mill I was journeying at the easy pace of my pony, early on a summer's morning, preferi'ing the rural breakfast witli the miller — for they are always a kind of innkeepers — to the fai'e of the village. I entered the little bridle-path that conducted to his door, and was sauntering listlessly along, dreaming pleasantly, as one does, when the song of the lark, and the heavy odour of dew-pressed flowers, steep the heart in happiness all its own — when, behind me, I heard the regular tramp of inarching. I listened — had I been a stranger to the sound, I should have thought them soldiers — but I knew too well the measured tread of the student, and I heard the jingling of their heavy sabres, a peculiar clank a student's ear cannot be deceived in. I. guessed at once the object of their coming, and grew sick at heart to think that the storm of men's stubborn passions, and the strife of their revengeful nature, should desecrate a peace- ful spot like this. I was about to turn back, disgusted at the thought, when I remembered I must return by the same path, and meet them — but even this I shrunk from. The footsteps came nearer and nearer, and I had barely time to move off the path, into the brushwood, and lead my pony after, when they turned the angle of the way. They who walked first were muffled in their cloaks, whose high collars concealed their faces, but the caps of 312 THE ADVENTURES OF Ar.THUR o'lEARY. many a gaudy colour proclaimed tliem students. At a little distance bcliind, and with a slower step, came another party, among whom I noticed one who walked between two others, his head sunk on his bosom, and evidently overcome with emotions of deep sorrow. A movement of my horse, at this instant, attracted their attention towards the thicket — they stopped, and a voice called out my name. I looked round, and there stood Eisendecker before me. He was dressed in deep mourn- ing, and looked pale and worn — his black beard and moustache deepening the haggard expression of features, to which the red borders of his eyelids, and his bloodless lips, gave an air of the deepest suffering. " Ah ! my friend," said he, with a sad effort at a smile, " you are here quite a-propos. I am going to fight Adolphe this morning." A fearful presentiment that such was the case came over me the instant I saw him — but when he eaid so, a thrill ran through me, and I grew cold from head to foot. " I see you are sorry," said he, tenderly, while he took my hand within both of his ; " but you would not blame me — indeed you would not —if you knew all." " What, then, was the cause of this quarrel? How came you to an open rupture? " He turned round, and as he did so his face was purple, the blood suffused every feature, and his very eyeballs seemed like bursting with it. He tried to speak ; but 1 only heard a rushing noise like a hoarse-drawn breath. " Be calm, my dear Eisendecker," said I. " Cannot this be settled otherwise than thus ? " " No, no," said he, in the voice of indignant passion I used to hear from him long before, "never!" He waved his hand impatiently as he spoke, and turned his head from ne. At the same moment one of his companions made a sign with his hand towards me. *' What! " whispered I, in horror—" a blow ? " A brief nod was the reply. Alas! from that minute all hope left me. Too well 1 knew the desperate alterna- tive that awaited such an insult. Reconciliation was no longer to be thought of. I asked no more, but followed the group along the path towards the mill. THE " STUDENT. 313 In a little garden, as it was called — wo should rather term it a close-shaven grass-plot — where some tables and benches were placed, under the shade of large chestnut trees, Adolphe von Miihry stood, surrounded by a number of his friends. He was dressed in his costume as a mem- ber of the Prussian club of the Landsraanschaft — a kind of uniform of blue and white, with a silver braidincr on the cuffs and collar, and looked handsomer than ever I saw him. The change his features had undergone gave him an air of manliness and confidence that greatly improved liim, and his whole carriage indicated a degree of self- reliance and energy which became him perfectly. A faint blush coloured his cheek as he saw me enter, and he lifted his cap straight above his head and saluted me cour- teously, but with an evident efi'ort to appear at ease before me. I returned his salute mournfully — perhaps reproach- fully, too — for he turned away and whispered something to a friend at his side. Although I had seen many duels with the sword, it was the first time I was present at an affair with pistols in Germany; and I was no less surprised than shocked to perceive that one of the party produced a dice-bos and dice, and placed them on a table. Eisendecker all this time sat far apart from the rest, and, with folded arms and half-closed eyelids, seemed to wait in patience for the moment of being called on. " What are they throwing for, yonder? " whispered I to a Saxon student near me. " For the shot, of course," said he ; " not but that they might spare themselves the labour. Eisendecker must fire first ; and as for who comes second after him " " Is he so sure as that?" asked I in terror; for the fearful vision of blood would not leave my mind. " That is he. The fellow that can knock a bullet off a champagne bottle at five-and-twenty paces may chance to hit a man at fifteen." " Miihry has it," cried out one of those at the table ; and I heard the words repeated from mouth to mouth till they reached Eisendecker, as he moved his cane listlessly to and fro in the mill-stream. *' Remember Ludwig," said his friend, as he grasped oil THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. his arm with a strong clasp; "remember what I told you. The othei' nodded carelessly, and merely said, " Is aU ready ? " " Stand here, Eisendecker," said Muhry's second, as ho dropped a pebble in the grass. Miihry was already placed, and stood erect, his eyes steadily directed to his antagonist, who never once looked towards him, but kept his glance fixed straight in front. " You fire first, sir," said Miihry's friend, while I could mark that his voice trembled slightly at the words. " You may reserve your fire till I have counted twenty after the word is given." As he spoke he placed the pistol in Eisendecker's hand, and called out, — " Gentlemen, fall back, fall back ; I am about to give the word. Herr Eisendecker, are you ready ?" A nod was the reply. " Xow ! " cried he, in a loud voice ; and scarcely was the word uttered wheu the discharge of the pistol was heard. So rapid, indeed, was the motion, that we never paw him lift his arm ; nor could any one say what direc- tion tlie ball had taken. " I knew it, I knew it," muttered Eisendecker's friend, in tones of agony. " All is over with him now." Before a minute elapsed, tlie word to fall back was again given, and I now beheld Von Miihry standing with his pistol in hand, while a smile of cool but determined malice sat on his features. While the second repeated the same words over to him, I turned to look at Eisendecker, but he evinced no apparent consciousness of what was going on about him ;. his eyes, as before, were bent on vacancy ; his pale face, unmoved, showed no signs of passion. In an instant the fearful " Now " rang out, and ^llihry ^^lowly raised his arm, and, levelling his pi.'^tol steadily, stood with his eye bent on his victim. While the deep voice of the second slowly repeated one — two — three — four — never was anything like the terrible suspense of that moment. It seemed as if the very seconds of human life were measuring out one THE " STUDENT. * 315 by one. As the word " ten " dropped from his lips, I saw Miihry's hand shake. In his revengeful desire to kill his man, he had waited too long, and now he was growiu"- nervous : he let fall his arm to his side, and waited for a few seconds, then raising it again, he took a steady aim, and at the word " nineteen " fired. A slight movement of Eisendecker's head at this instant brought his face full front ; and the bullet, which would have transfixed his head, now merely passed along his cheek, tearing a rude flesh-wound as it went. A half-cry broke from Miiliry : I heard not the word ; but the accent I shall never cease to remember. It was now Eisendecker's time ; and as the blood streamed down his cheek, and fell in great drops upon his neck and shoulders, I saw his face assume the expression it used to wear in former days. A terrible smile lit up his dark features, and a gleam of passionate vengeance made his eye glow like that of a maniac. " 1 am ready — give the word," cried he, in frantic impatience. But Miihry's second, fearful of giving way to such a moment of passion, hesitated ; when Eisendecker again called out, "The word, sir, the word;" and the by- standers, indignant at the appearance of iinfairness, repeated the cry. The crowd fell back, and the word was given. Eisen- decker raised his weapon, poised it for a second in his hand, and then, elevating it above his head, brought it gradually down, till, from the position whei'e I stood, I could see that he aimed at the heart. His hand was now motionless, as if it were marble ; while his e3"e, rivctted on his antagonist, seemed to fix oil one small spot, as though his whole vengeance was to be glutted there. Never was suspense more dreadful, and I stood breathless, in the expectation of the fatal flash, when, with a jerk of his arm, he threw up the pistol and fired above his head ; and then, with a heart-rending cry of " Mein bruder, mein bruder," rushed into Miihry's arms, and fell into a torrent of teai'S. The scene was indeed a trying one, and few could wit- ness it unmoved. As for me, I turned away completely 316 THE ADVEXTUPxES OF ARTHUR o'lEARY. overcome ; Avhile my Iw ar found vent in thankfulness that such a fearful beginning should end thus happily. "Yes," said Eiscndccker, as we rode home together that evening, -when, alter a long silence, he spoke ; " yes, I had resolved to kill him ; but when my finger was even on the trigger, I saw a look upon his features that re- minded me of those earlier and happier days when we had but one home and one heart ; and I felt as if I was about to become the murderer of my brother." Need I add that they were friends for ever after ? But I must leave Gottingen and its memories too. They recall happy days, it is true; but they who made them so — where are they ? CHAPTER XXI. TBB IRAYELLINO PARTT. I HAVE already taken occasion to indoctrinate my reader on the subject of what I deem the most perfect species of table dl.ote. May I now beg of him, or her, if she will be kind enough, to accompany me to the iabJe-ivonstre of Wiesbaden, Ems, or Baden-Baden? We are at the Cursaal or Shuberts, or the " Hof von Nassau " at Wies- baden. Four hundred guests are assembled ; their names indicative of eveiy land of p]urope, and no small portion of America ; the mixture of language giving the impres- sion of its being a grand banquet to the " operatives at Babel," but who, not satisfied with the chances of mis- understanding afforded by speaking their own tongues to foreigners, have adventured on the more certain project of endeavouring to be totally unintelligible, by speaking ian<;uages with wliieh they are unacquainted ; while ia their dress, manner, and appearance, the great object Heenis to be an accurate imitation of some other country than their own. THE TRAVELLING PARTY. 817 Hence Frenclimen affect to seem English — English to look like Prussians — Prussians to appear Poles — Poles to be Calraucks. Your "elegant" of the Boulevard de Ghent sports a "cut away" like a Yorkshire squire, and rides in cords ; your Londoner wears his hair on his shoulders, and his moustaches like a Pomeranian count ; Turks find their way into tight trousers and *' Wellingtons ; " and even the Yankees cannot resist the Boft impeachment, but take three inches off their hair behind, and don't whittle before company. Nothing is more amusing than these general congresses of European vagrancy. Characters the most original meet you at every step, and display most happily traits you never have the opportunity to inspect at home. For BO it is, the very fact of leaving home, with most people, seems like an absolution from all the necessities of sus- taining a part. They feel as though they had taken off the stage finery in which they had fretted away their hours before, and stand forth themselves in proprid. Thus your grave Chancery lawyer becomes a chatty pleasant man of the world, witty and conversable ; — your abstruse mathematician, leaving conic sections behind him, talks away with the harmless innocence of a child about men and politics ; and even your cold " exclusive " bids a temporary farewell to his "morgue," and answers his next neighbour at table without feeling shocked at his obtrusion. There must be some secret sympathy — of whose opera- tions we know nothing — between our trunks and our temperaments — our characters and our carpet-bags ; and that by the same law which opens one to the inspection of an official at the frontier, the other must be laid bare when we pass across it. How well would it have been for us, if the analogy had been pushed a little farther, that the fiscal regulations adopted in the former were but extended to the latter, and that we had applied the tarifi" to the morals, as well as to the manufactures, of the Continent. It was in some such musing as this I sat in a window of the Nassau, at Wiesbaden, during the height of the season of . Strangers were constantly arriving, and hourly was the reply " no room " given to the discon- solate travellers, who peered from their carriages with the 318 THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR o'lEART. road-sick look of a long journey. As for myself, 1 had been daily and nightly transferred from one quarter of the hotel to another — now sleeping in an apartment forty feet square, in a bed generally reserved for royalty — now bivouacking under the very slates; one night exposed to the incessant din of the street beside my windows ; the next, in a remote wing of the building, where there were no bells in the chambers, nor any waiter was ever known to wander. In fact, I began to believe that they made use of me to air the beds of the establishment, and was seriously disposed to make a demand for some compensa- tion in my bill ; and if I might judge from the pains in my bones I contracted in " Lit de Parade," I must have saved her Majesty of Greece, who was my successor in it, a notable attack of rheumatism. To this shuttlecock state of existence the easiness of my nature made me submit tamely enough, and I never dreamed of rebellion. I was sitting conning over to myself the recollections of some faces I had seen before, when the head waiter appeared before me, with a request that 1 would be kind enough to give up my place at the table, which was No. 14, to a gentleman lately arrived, and who desired to sit near his friends in that vicinity. " To be sure," said I at once ; " I have no acquaintance here, and 114 will do me as well as 14 — place me where you like." At the same time, it rather puzzled me to learn what the individual could be like who conceived such a violent desire to be in the neighbourhood of some Hamburg Jews — for such were the party around me — when the waiter began to make room for a group that entered the room, and walked up to the end of that table. A glance told they were English. There was an elderly man, tall and well-looking, with the air "gentleman" very legibly written on his quiet, com- posed features ; the carriage of his head, and a something in his walk, induced me to believe him military. A lady leaned on his arm, some thirty years his junior — he was about sixty-six or seven — whose dress and style were fashionable, at the same time that they had not that perfect type of unpretending legitimacy that belongs essentially to but one class. Hlie was, in fact, trop hien inise for a tahle-cVhote ; for, although only a morning costume, there THE TRAVELLINQ PARTY. 819 wivs a display about it whicli was faulty in its taste ; her features, without being handsome, were striking, as much for the carriage of her head as anything in themselves. There was an air of good looks, as though to say, " If you don't think me handsome, the fault is yours." Her eyes . were of a bluish grey, large and full, with lightly-arched brows ; but the mouth was the most characteristic feature — it was firm and resolute-looking, closely compressed, and with a slight protrusion of the lower lip, that said as plainly as words could say it, " I will, and that's enough." In walking, she took some pains to display her foot, which, with all the advantages of a Parisian shoe, was scai'cely as pretty as she conceived it, but on the whole was well-formed, and rather erring on the score of size than symmetry. They were followed by three or four young men, of whom I could only remark that they wore the uniform appearance of young Englishmen of good class, very clean- looking faces, well-brushed hair, and well-fitting frock- coats. One sported a moustache of a dirty-yellow colour, and whiskers to match, and by his manner, and a certain half-shut-eye kind of glance, proclaimed himself the know- ing man of the party. Wlrile they were taking their places — which they did at once on entering — I heard a general burst of salutations break from them in very welcome accent : " Oh, here ho is — here he comes. Ah ! I knew we should see him." At the same instant, a tall, well-dressed fellow leaned over the table and shook hands with them all in succession. " When did you arrive ? " said he, turning to the lady. " Only an hour ago ; Sir Marmaduke would stay at Frankfort yesterday, to see Duvernet dance, and so we were detained beyond our time." The old gentleman half blushed at this charge, and while a look of pleasure showed that he did not dislike the accusation, he said, — " No, no ; I stayed to please Calthorpe." " Indeed ! " said the lady, turning a look of very peculiar, but unmistakable, anger at him of the yellow moustache. "Indeed, my lord ! " Oh, — ves, that is a weakness of mine," said he, in an